ffi 


'tarn 


wfru^ 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

Bequest  of 
CHARLOTTE  PETERS  BRUSH 


A 


T    I! 


fy/ftltO 

POETICAL  WORKS 


0    t 


. 
P  E  TdSR    P  I  N  t>  A  R,    ESQ. 


A    DISTANT    RELATION    TO    THE 


POET        OF        T    II    E    B    E    Si 


TO    WHICH    ARE    PREFIXED, 


%IEMOIRS  AND  ANECDOTES  OF  THE  AUTHOR.. 


N  E  rr  B  v  R  r  p  o  JR.  r: 

PRINTED  BY   JOHN  MYCALL,  FOR  JOHN  BOYLE,  IN  ;,IARLCO- 
ROUGH-STREET,  BOSTON. 


CONTENTS. 


MEMOIRS  and  Anecdote's  of  Peter 

Pindar,  v 

A  poetical,  fupplicating,  mode  ft,  and 
ajfeEtinfT'Epiftle  to  thofe  literary 
Colojjifjjes,  the  Reviewers. 

Lyric  Odes  to  the  Koyal  Academi 
cians,  for  the  Tear  1782,  7 

for  the  Year  1783,  30 

for  the  Tear  1785,  45 

Farewell  Odes  for  the  Tear  1786,  81 

The  Lou/tad^  en  Heroic  Poem,  Canto  L  113 

'Cant  oil.  133 

'*£  poetical  and  congratulatory  Epif- 
tle  to  Barnes  J3o/well,  Efq.  on  his- 
Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides 
with  Dr.  John/on,  157 

JSozzy  and  Piozzi,  or  the  Britifr 
Biographers?  a  Pair  of  Town 
Eclogues ,  1 69 

Ode  upon  Qde,  or  a  Peep  at  St.  James\. 
or  New-Tear's  Gift,  or  What  you 

i95 

A   2 


CONTENT    S. 

An  apologetic  Poftfcript  to  Ode  upon 

Ode,  or  a  Peep  at  St.  James\  229 

In  ft  r  it  £i  ions  to  a  celebrated  Latireat, 
alias,  the  Progress  of  Curiofity, 
alias,  a  Birth-Day  Ode,  alias, 
Mr.  Whltebread's  Brew-hoiife,  24 1 

Brother  Peter  to  Brother  Tom,. an 
expoftulatory  Eplftle,  259 

Peters  Pen/ton,  a  folenm  Epiftle  to  a 
fubttme  Perfonage. 


MEMOIRS  AND  ANECDOTES 

O  F 

PETER    PINDAR,    Esq. 


A  H  E  lives  of  literary  men  are  generally  fo  little 
employed  in  the  buftle  of  the  world,  that  their  charac 
ters  are  perhaps  more  properly  deducible  from  the  na 
ture  of  their  competitions,  than  from  any  obfervations 
of  their  conduct.  The  prefent  fubj eft,  however,  of  our 
Biographic  notice,  has  mixed  fo  much  with  mankind, 
aad  bas  been  dittinguifhed  for  fuch  an  extenfive  inter- 
courfe  with  the  various  conditions  of  human  life,  that 
nothing  of  the  ufual  barren  uniformity  of  literary  pur- 
fuits,  is  to  be  deemed  defcriptive  of  his  career;  though 
indeed  it  mint  be  acknowledged  that  all  reprefentations 
of  it,  not  furniihed  by  himfelf,  mutt  necefTarily  be  con* 
fidered  as  partial  and  inadequate. 

THE  gentleman,  then,  who  has  figured  in  the  Poetical 
World,  under  the  appellation  of  PETER  PINDAR,  in  rea 
lity  bears  the  name  of  W LC-«-T,  and  is  defcended 

from  a  refpeftable  family  in  Devonlhire.  He  was  bred 
to  the  fludy  of  phyfic,  and  praftifed  fome  time  with 
fuccefs,  in  Cornwall;  but  notwithflanding  that  he  appli 
ed-  himfelf  very  feriouflyto  his  profeffion,  a  genius,  like 
his,  could  not  be  reftrained  within  the  dull  limits  of  for 
mal  bufmefs  ;  he  was,  therefore,  found  frequently  ad- 
drefling  the  ladies  of  Helicon.  In  this  county  he  form 
ed  a  connexion  with  the  late  Sir  William  Trelawny,  and 
followed  his  fortunes  to  Jamaica,  of  which  ifland  he 
was  made  Governor  during  the  Adminiftration  of  Lord 
Shelburne.  At  this  place  we  find  the  Doftor  at  the 
funmit  of  medical  elevation,  by  being  appointed  Phy- 
fician-General  to  the  Ifland,  enjoying  and  enjoyed  by 
the  lively  inhabitants.  If  we  do  not-  miftake,  the  Doc 
tor,  during  his  refidence  in  this  ifland,  was  induced  to 
enter  into  the  clerical  function,  on  a  profpeft  of  impor 
tant  preferment  :  but  being  diiappoimed,  he  relinquiih- 
A  3 


[       vi        ] 

ed  the  profeifion  of  a  divine,  before  his  departure  FGJP 
England,  and  has  never  fince  refumed  it.  This  circum- 
ftance  of  his  life,  we  underftand,  honed  Peter  has  al 
ways  been  unwilling  to.  acknowledge  ;  but  as  impartial 
Biographers,  we  think  it  our  duty  to  reveal  it  to  our 
readers.  On  his  return  to  England,  he  re-aiTumed  and 
purfued  his  original  profeflion  for  feveral  years  ;  but 
chufing,  as  it  is  faid  he  often  has  wifely  declared,  ra 
ther  to  live  happy  on  one  guinea,  than  miferable  on  ten9 
he  quitted  the  gloomy  chambers  of  ficknefs,  for  thei, 
chearful  region  of  ParnafTus.  It  is  needlefs  to  obferve, 
Tivhat  opportunity  of  penetrating  into  the  character,  and 
obferving  the  weaknefs  of  human  nature,  the  Doftor 
muft  have  derived  from  his  profeflion  ;  and  how  far 
this  might  tend  to  affift  him  in  his  poetical  purfuits. 
The  Dodor's  attachment  to  poetry,  however^  at  laft  at 
tained  fuch  an  afcendency  over  him,  that,  though  his 
repute  as  a  phyfician  was  very  high  in  his  native  coun 
ty,  and  consequently  productive  of  confiderable  emolu 
ment,  he  found  it  impoffible  to  extinguilh  the  poetic 
feryor:  and  as  the  confined  fphere,  in  which  he  moved 
in  Cornwall,  could  not  afford  fufficient  materials  to  ex- 
ercife,  or  fufficient  entertainment  to , gratify  a  genius  like 
his,  he  entirely,  rclinquifhed  his  medical  profeflion,  and 
commenced  his  literary  career  in  a  place  more  adapted. 
to  his  powers,  the  ample  field  of  the  metropolis.  And 
here  it  muft  be  obferved,  that  the  Doftor  enjoyed  an 
advantage  feldom  pofTeiTed  by  poets  in  general  :  for* 
having  fome  .  family  inheritance  of  his  own,  large  e- 
nough  to  fupp'y  all  the  decent  comforts  of  life,  he  was 
under  no  neceffity  of  courting  the  favour  or  fubmitting 
to  the  controul  of  Book-fellers ;  and  was  therefore  ena 
bled  to  give  an  unbridled  indulgence  to  the  bent  of  his. 
genius,  which  feems  vehemently  to  have  direfted  him 
to  fhtire  ;  in  which  he  has  certainly  equalled  the  fail 
writers  this  country  has  produced. 

IT  now  becomes  us,  to  make  fuch  references  to  the 
works  of  this  verfatile,  author,  as  may  juftify  the  high 
opinion  we  have  declared  of  his  genius;  which  indeed 
is  of  fo  Protean  a  kind,  that  it  appears  in  alinoiT:  every 
Ihspe  ;  and  while  one  fhlly  of  his  fancy  excites  our  £<V 
miration,  another  perhaps  immediately  occurs  of  fo  very 
different  a  fpecics,  that  it  is  hardly  pofllble  to  fuppofe, 
ihcy  were  toih  the  progeny  of  the  fame  mind.  In  one 


L      vii"     T 

refpect  we  confefs,  however,  there  is  a  drawback  on 
our  partiality  to  this  author  ;  find  that  arifes  from  the 
freedom,  in  which  he  has  fuffered  his  Mufe  to  indulge 
herfelf  on  the  character  of -a  Great  Perfonage.  Kings 
are  characters  that  fhould  not  >be  (lightly  fported  with, 
for  they  are  actually  neceflary  to  the  peace  and  decorum 
of  Society  ;  which,  beiides  the  folid  fupport  of  ufeful 
laws,  derives  confiderable  ftrength  from  the  reverence, 
in  which  the  frrfl  Magiftrate  of  a  country  is  held  by  the- 
generality  of  the  people  :  for  however  juft  the  cenfure, 
the  character  fhould 'be  facred;  though,  to  the  credit  of 
our  author,'  it  muft  be  acknowledged,  that  his  effufi- 
ons  feem  more  characterifed  by  good  humour,  than  by 
the  acrimonious  feverity  which  difgraces  the  lays  of 
Churchill,  and  the  letters  of  the  elegant,  but  virulent  Ju- 
mus.  There  is,  however;,  one  circumftance  in  the  life 
of  our  author,  which,  as  it  tends  to  the  fupport  of  a- 
beautiful  art,  deferves  to  be  recorded.  Let  it  then  be 
mentioned,  that  to  him  is  PAINTING  indebted  for  OPIE.  . 
This  great  Artift  was  found  by  our  author  in  the  mines 
of  Cornwall,  where  his  genius  firft  difcovered  itfelf  in 
fuch  rude  efforts  as  might  have  patted  unobferved  by  a 
lefs  intelligent  eye  than  that  of  the  Doctor,  who  faw,  in 
its  roughed  Ihape,  the  excellence  which  has  fince  ex-, 
panded  into  fuch  importance. 

As  far  as  we  have-been  able  to  trace  the  poetical  ca~ 
reer  of  our  author,  his  works  have  appeared  in  the  fol 
lowing  order.  His  fir  ft  production  was,  an  EPISTLE  TO 
THE  REVIEWERS,  a  compofmon  of  truly  ironical  and 
laughable  fatire.  The  next  offspring  of  his  Mufe,  was, 
LYRIC  ODES  TO  THE  ROYAL  ACADEMICIANS,  which,  with 
all  their  merit,  we-  muft  confefs,  in  fome  of  the  (trie- 
tures,  are  deficient  in  candor,  and  appear  to  flow  more 
from  a  love  of  fatire,  than  from  a  conviction  of  the  de 
merits  of  the  objects  of -his  critical  feverity.  We  dare 
cite  Mr.  Weft  as  an  inftance,  who,  though  far  from  a 
perfect  painter,  was  entitled  to  more  refpect  from  our 
author.  His  next  .work  was,  LYRIC  ODES  on  the  fame 
fubject,  with  the  fame  feverity  and  humour,  and,  we 
are  afraid,  with  the  fame  want  of  candor. 

DURING  the  intervals  of  his  Odiac  effufions,  our  au 
thor  produced  THE  LOUSIAD,  a  Mock-Heroic  Poem,  a- 
b'ounding  in  wit,  humour,  and  ftrength;  but  at  the  fame 
time  defective  in  that  rcfpcct  due  from  a  fubject  to  his 


[        viii        ] 

fovereign  V  Peter  fhould  have  recolle&ed  the  old  a- 
dnge,  "  That  truth  is  not  to  be  fpoken  at  all  "  times." 
Our  author's  next  performance  was,  his  EPISTLE  TO 
JAMES  BOSWELL,ESQ.  The  fubjeft  was  undoubtedly  fair 
game,  and  fully  juftified  the  lafti  of  his  Juvenalian  fe- 
verity.  This  poem,  for  novelty  of  imagery,  ftrength 
of  fatire,  and  glow  of  poetry,  may  rank  with  any  pro- 
duftion  in  our  language.  The  next  labour  of  his  pen 
was,  BOZZY  AND  PIOZZI,  a  jufl  ridicule  of  vain  and  igno 
rant  biographers.  After  this,  appeared  ODE  UPON  ODE, 
in  which  Kings,  Laureats,  Lords,  Ladies,  Knights,  Fid- 
Jers,  andrfwateursy  are  treated  with  unmerciful  feverity. 
To  this  fucceeded.  AN  APOLOGETIC  POSTSCRIPT,  ironi 
cally  juftifying  the  wanton  ridicule  of  the  preceding 
publication,  and  which  indeed  may  be  confidered  as  a 
witty  repetition  of  his  fatirical  offences.  The  next  work, 
in  order,  as  well  as.we  can  recoiled,  was  the  Second  Cant& 
of  the  LOUSIAD,  breathing  the  fame  fpirit  of  ridicule,  re 
plete  with  the  fame  novelty  of  imagery  and  ftrength  of 
numbers.  The  enfuing  production  is  entitled,  INSTRUC 
TIONS  TO  A  CELEBRATED  L/\UREAT,  pofTefllng  a  vein  of  iro 
nical  wit  and  humour,  equal,  if  not  fuperior,  to  any  of 
his  publications.  The  next  performance  of  our  author 
was,  BROTHER  PETER  TO  BROTHER  TOM,  an  expoflulatory 
Epiitle,  no  way  inferior  to  any  of  his  former  produ&i- 
ons  in  wit  and  fatire.  And,  laftly,  PETER'S  PENSION^  fo- 
lemn  Epiftle  to  a  fublime  Perfonage ;  in  which  he  feems 
to  have  exerted  his  utinoft  powers  of  ridicule,  and  lalhes 
with  indignant  fury,  the  keen  fportfman  that  poflefled 
tin  unfeeling  heart,  and  was  totally  unmoved  at  the  death 
of  a  companion  he  had  himfelf  brought  into  the  field  ; 
and  expofes  the  fordid  avarice,  that  would  derive  fome 
pitiful  profits  from  choaked  fneep,  , 


b*xl  green  p 
cr 

kav 


>7it  gfcti/t  jjvm  vji  it.  rr  e  atrve  eimwvuvi  cu  m  detect  iae  o&ject  tt>at 
reated  fo  much  difguft.  From  the  be  ft  in  format  ion,  we  find  it  to 
vave  been  a  hair  from  the  human  head;  which  PETER,  by  a  licen- 
tia  poeticn,  converted  into  a  LOUSE.  Thus  much  happened  in  con- 
fcquetice  of  bis  Maje fly's  difcovery^  viz',  the  cooks^  fcullions^  &c.  &c.. 
were  forced  to  fubmit  to  the  dreadful  operation  of  fljaving,  to  the 
number  of  fifty  ^  and  great  was  their  difpleafure  thereat.  This  we 
tan  vouch  for  ;  but  whether  it  'is  a  proper  fubje^t  for  the  Poe^s 
ridicule  or  not^  is  a  gstftfon  tjjat  may  admit  of  fame  cctttrover/y* 


A 

POETICAL,  SUPPLICATING,  MODE  SIT 

A  N  I> 

AFFECTING    E  P  I  S  T  L,E 

T  O    THOSE 

LITERARY    COLOSSUSSES, 

THE 

REVIEWERS, 


Carmine,  Dt  Super  placantur^  Carmine,  Manes* 


r*T^ 

REVIEWERS. 


Jr  ATHERS  of  Wifdom— a  poor  wight  befriend  ! 

0  hear  my  fnnple  pray'r  in  (imple  lays  : 
In  forma  pauperis  behold  I  bend, 

And  of  your  Worlhips  ask  a  little  praife. 

I  am  no  cormorant  for  fame,  d'ye  fee  ; 

1  ask  not  all  the  laurel,  but  a  fyrig  / 
Then  hear  me,  Guardians  of  the  facred  Tree, 

And  Hick  a  leaf  or  two  about  my  wig. 

In  fonnet,  ode,  and  Legendary  tale, 
Soon  will  the  prefs  my  tuneful  works  difplay  ; 

Then  do  not  damn  'em,  and  prevent  the  fale  ; 
And  your  petitioner  {hall  ever  pray. 

My  labours  damn'd — the  Mufe  with  grief  will  groan 
The  cenfure  dire  my  lantern-jaws  will  rue  ! 

Know  I  have  teeth  and  ftomach  like  your  own, 
And  that  I  wiih  to  eat  as  well  as  you. 

I  never  faid,  like  murd'rers  in  their  dens, 
You  fecret  met  in  cloud-capp'd  garret  high, 

With  hatchets,  fcalping-knives,  in  fhape  of  pens, 
To  bid,  like  Mohocks,  haplefs  authors  die  : 

Nor  faid,  (in  your  Reviews,  together  fining) 
The  limbs  of  butcher' d  writers,  cheek  by  jowl, 

Look'd  like  the  legs  of  flies  on  cobwebs  hung 
Before  the  hungry  fpidefs  dreary  hole. 


-I     4      3 

I  neTer  dechir'd  that,  frightful  as  the  Bhck% 

In  grai|\Htennel  caps  you  meet  together,   .  •• 
V   With  fcai-oe  Afe  of  ihirt  about  your  backs,-*  ... 
(Jr  coat  $r  iKeches  to  keep  otj&<th'e  <vyeatler-v 

\    '  '       ^  ™ 

Heav'n  knows  I'm  innocent  of  all  tranfgreffion 
Agaiaft  your  honours,  men  of  claffic "fame  I . 
I  ne'er  abus'd1  your  critical  profeffion, 
~"Whofe  dictum  faves  at  once,  or  damns  a  name. 

I  never  queftion'd  your  profound  of  head, 
Nor  vulgar  cali'd  your  wit,  your  manners  coarfe^ 

Nor  fwore  on  butcher'd  authors  that  you  fed, 
Like  carrion  crows,  upon  a  poor  dead  horfe* 

I  never  faid^  that,  pedlar-like,; you  fold 
Praife  by  the  ounce,  or  pound,  like  fnuiF  or  cheefe  ' 

Too  well  I  knew  you  filver  fcorn'd  and  gold — 
Such  drofs,  a  fage  Reviewer  fekiom  fees  ! 

I  never  hinted,  that,  with  half-a-crowfi 

Books  have  been  fent  you  by  the  fcribbling  tribe  j 

Which  fee  hath  purchased  pages  of  renown  : 
No,  for!  knew,  you'd  fpurn  the  paltry  bribe. 

I  ne'er  averr'd,  you,  critics  to  a  man, 
For  pence,  would  fwear  an  owl  excell'd  the  lark  : 

Nor  call\i  a  coward  gang,  your  grave  divan, 
That  ftabb'd,  like  bafe  aflfailms,  in  the  dark. 

I  never  prais'd,  or  blam'd,  an  author's  book, 
Until -your  wife  opinions  came  abroad  ; 

On  the'fe  with  holy  rev'rence  did  I  look  ; 
With  you  I  prais'd,  or  blam'd,  fo  help  me  G— d  * 

The  fam'd  Longinus,  till  the  world  mud  know, 
The  gape  of  wonder  Ariftarchus  drew, 

As  well  as  Alexander's  tutor,  lo  ! 
-AIL!  all  great  critics,  gentlemen,  like  ;>'<? 


[       5       -] 

any  ask  me,  "  pray,  Sir,  your  opinion, 
Of  thofe  Reviewers,  who  fo  bolcjrbeftride 
"  The  world  of  learning,  and  with*pijoud  dominion, 
"  High  on  the  backs  of  crouching,  authors  ride  ?'* 

Quick  have  I  anfwer'd,  in  a  rage,  "  odsblood  ! 

•"  No  works  like  their' s  fuch  criti.cifm  conveys  ; 
"  Not  all  the  timber  of  Dodona's  wood 

"  E'er  pour'd  more  fterling  oracle  than  tbey" 

Did  others  cry  cc  whate'er  their  brains  indite, 

Be  fure  is  excellent,  a  partial  crew  ! 
With  16  Pagans  uiher'd  to  the  light, 

And  prais'd  to  folly  in  the  next  Review  :** 

This  was  my  anfwer  to  each  fnarling  elf, 

(My  eye-balls  fiil'd  with  fire,  my  mouth  with  foam) 

"  Zounds  !  is  not  juftice  due  to  one's  dear  felf? 
"  And  ihould  not  charity  begin  at  home  ?" 

Full  often  I've  been  queftion'd  with  a  fneer — 
"  Think  you  one  could  not  bribe  'em  ?"  c  Not  a 

"  Nation." 

c'-  A  beaf-fteak,  with  a  pot  or  two  of  beer, 
"  Might  fave  a  little  volume  from  damnation/' 

Furious  I've  anfwered,  "  Lo  !  my  Lord  Carlifle 
"  Hath  begg'd,  in  vain,  a  feat  in  Fame's  old  temple  $ 

"  Though  you  applaud,  their  wifdoms  will  not  fniiie, 
"  And  what  they  difapprove  is  curfed  fimple. 

"  Could  gold  fucceed,  enough  the  peer  might  raife, 
cc  Whofe  wealth  would  buy  the  critics  o'er  and  o'er  : 

"  'Tis  merit  only  can  -command  their  praife, 
"  Witnefs  the  volumes  of  Mifs  Hannah  Moore  *. 

*;  Ihe  Search  for  Happinefs,  that  beauteous  fong, 
"  Which  all  of  us  would  give  our  ears  to  own  ; 

"  The  Captive,  Percy,  that  like  muftard  ^rrong, 

"  Make  our  eye^s  weep>  and  underllaridings  f  groan.'0 

*  A  Lady  talk'd  of  for  her  poetical  Produftions,  and  em 
phatically  called  by  a  certain  Clafs  of  Readers,  the  tenth  Mu-i&, 
t  A  pair  of  Tragedies. 

B 


C       6       ] 

Hail,  Briftol  town  !  Boeotia  now  no  more, 
Since  Garrick\  Sappho  fmgs,  tho'  rather  flowly, 

All  hail,  Mils  Hannah  !  worth  at  lead  a  fcore, 
Aye,  twenty  fcore  of  Chatterton  and  Rowley. 

Men  of  prodigious  parts  are  moftly  my  ; 

Great  Newton's  felf  this  failing  did  inherit  ; 
Thus  frequent,  you  avoid  the  public  eye, 

And  hide,  in  lurking-holes,  a  world  of  merit. 

Yet  oft  your  cautious  modefties  I  fee, 

When  from  your  bow'r  with  bats  you  wing  the  darki 
And  Sundays,  when  no  catchpoles  prowl  for  prey, 

On  aether,  dining  in  St.  James's-Park. 

Meek  Sirs  !  in  frays  you  chtife  not  to  appear, 

A  circumliance  moft  natural  to  fuppofe, 
And  therefore  hide  your  precious  heads,  for  fear 

Some  angry  bard  abus'd  ftiouid  pull  your  nofe. 

The  world's  loud  plaudit,  lo  !  you  don't  defire, 

Nor  do  you  haftily  on  books  decide  ; 
But  firft  at  ev'ry  coffee-houfe  enquire, 

How,  in  its  favour,  runs  the  public  tide. 

There,  Wifdoin,  often  with  a  critic's  wig, 
The  face  demure,  knit  brows,  and  forehead  (cowling, 

I've  feen  o'er  pamphlets,  with  importance  big, 
Moufmg  for  faults,  or  if  you'll  have  it,  owling, 

Herculean  gentlemen  !  I  dread  your  drubs  ; 

Pity  the  lifted  whites  of  both  my  eyes ! 
Strung  with  new  ftrength  beneath  your  mafly  clubs, 

Alas  !  I  fliall  not  an  Antaeus  rife. 

Lo,  like  an  elephant  along  the  ground, 
Great  Caliban,  the  giant  Johnfon  ftretcht  ! 

The  Britilh  Rofcius  too,  your  clubs  confound* 
Whofe  fame  the  furtheft  of  the  ftars  hath  reach'd. 

If  fach  fo  eafy  fink  beneath  your  might, 
Ye  Gods  !  I  may  be  done  for  in  a  trice  : 

Hurl'd  by  youf  rage  to  everlalling  night — 
Crack'd  with  that  eafe  a  beggar  cracks  his  lice* 


C        7        ] 

If,  awful  Sirs,  you  grant  me  my  petition  ; 

With  brother  pamphlets  ftiall  my  pamphlet  ibine  ; 
And  ihould  it  chance  to  pafs  a  fjrft  edition, 

In  capitals  fhall  flare  your  praile  divine. 

Quote  from  my  work  as  much  as  e'er  you  pleafe 
For  Extracts,  lo  !  I'll  put  no  angry  face  on  ; 

Nor  fill  a  hungry  lawyer's  fid  with  fees, 
To  trounce  a  Fookfeller,  like  furious  Mafon.* 

Sage  Sirs  !   if  favour  in  your  fight  I  find, 

;  If  fame  you  grant,  I'll  blefs  each  gen'rous  giver  : 

Wifh  you  found  coats,  good  flomachs,  matters  kind,  f 

Gallons  of  broth,  and  pounds  of  bullocks  liver. 


LYRIC     ODES, 

To  the  ROYAL  ACADEMICIANS,  for  the  YEAR 

M.DCC3LXXXII» 

Arma  vSrofyite  vano. 

Paint,  and  the  Men  of  Canvas,  fire  my  Lays, 
Who   fliew  their  Works  for  Profit  and  for  Praife  ; 
Whofe  pockets  know  moft  comfortable  Fillings.— 
•Gaining  Two  Thou  fund  Pounds  a  Year,  by  SbiUings* 


O    D    E      I. 

PETER  givtth  an  account  of  his  great  RELATION  —  - 
boafleth—praifeth  Sir  WILLIAM  CHAMBERS  and  SO 
MERSET  l$QVSE.-+-appiaudetb  Sir  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS, 
and  fheweth  deep  ciaffic  Learning. 

IVlY   Coufin  Pindar,  in  his  Odes, 
Applauded  Horfe-jockies  and  Gods, 

*  The  Conteft  between  Mr.  Mafon  and  a  Book-feller  is  ge 
nerally  known.  t  The  Book-fcliers. 

B   2 


[        8        ] 

Wreftlersand  Boxers  in  his  verfe  divine] 
Then  {hall  not  T,  who  boaft  his  fire3 
And  old  hereditary  lyre, 

To  Britilh  Painters  give  a  golden  line? 

Say,  ihall  yon  Dome  ftupendous  rife, 
Striking  with  Attic  front,  the  skies — 

The  nurfing  dame  of  many  a  Painting  Ape;* 
And  I  immortal  rhime  refufe, 
To  tell  the  nations  round  the  news, 

Arid  make  Posterity  with  wonder  gape? 

Spirit  of  Coufin  Pindar,  ho ! 

By  all  thy  Odes,  the  world  fliall  know, 
That  Chambers  plann'd  it— Be  his  name  rever'd ! 

Sir  Wiltt6n?$  journeymen  and  tools, 

(No  pupils  of  the  Chinefe  fchools) 
With  ftone,  and  wood,  and  linw,  the  fabric  rear'd  '!- 

Thus  having  pin  the  Knight"  in  rhime, 
S  tone,  men,  and  timber,  tools  and  lime ; 

Now  let  us  fee  what  this  rare  doom  contains— 
Where  rival  artifts  for  a  name, 
Bit  by  that  glorious  mad-dog  Fame, 

Have  fixt  the  labors  of  their  brufli  and  brains* 

0  Mufe  f  Sir  Jojbtufs  maffer-hand 
Shall  firfl  our  lyric  laud  command — 

Lo !  Tarleton  dragging  on  his  boot  fo  tight! 
His  Horfes  feel  a  godlike  rage, 
And  long  with  Yankies  to  engage— 

I  think  I  hear  them  fnorting  for  the  fight! 

Behold  with  fire  each  eye-ball  gloVing! 

1  wiih  indeed  their  manes  fo  flowing 


*  Painting  Apt— This  exprcfTion  is  by  no  means  mean:  to 
convey  the  idea  of  infult.  There  is  great  propriety,  if  not 
poetry,  in  it. — The  reader  will  pleafe  to  recoiled:,  that 
Painting  is  an  imitative  art.--Monkies  a" re  prodigious  imita 
tors—  -witnefs*  my  own  Odes.  Befides,  Pope  compliments  the 
immortal  Newton,  by  a  fimilar  allu^on, 


L       9       3 

Were  more  like  hair— the  brutes  had  been  as  good, 
If  flaming  with  fuch  claffic  force, 
ITbey  had  refembled  lefs  that  horfe 

Call'cl  Trojan— -and  by  Greeks  compos'd  of  wood, 

Now  to  yon  Angel  let  us  go— 

A  fine  performance  too,  I  trow, 
Who  rides  a  cloud— indeed  a  poorifli  hack— 

Which  to  my  mind  doth  certes  bring 

That  eafy  bum-delighting  thing, 
Rid  by  the  Chancellor— yclep'd  a  Sack. 

Yet,  Reynolds,  let  me  fairly  fay 

With  pride  I  pour  the  lyric  lay" 
To  mod  things  by  thy  able  hand  expreft— 

Compared,  alas !  to  other  men, 

Thou  art  an  eagle  to  a  wren ! 
Now,  Mrs.  Mufe,  attend  on  Mr.  Wefl, 


ODE      II. 


PfcTER  falleth  foul  on  Mr.  WEST  for  rep  refer;  ting  wr 

Bleffed  REDEEMER   like  an   old  CLOTHES-MAN«-<?«./ 

for  mifreprefenting  the  APOSTLES.-- PETER  defer  ibeth 

St.  PAUL  and  JUDAS  and  the  APOSTLES— VuttLtb  up 

Mr.    WEST'S  Angels — Attacketb    another  Pifture  of 

Mr.  WzsT—ffeepeth  over  the  hard  Fate  of  PRINCB 

OCTAVIUS  and  AUGUSTUS,  Children  of  our  mcft  G/*- 

fious  Sovereign. 


o 


WEST,  what  hath  thy  pencil  done? 
Why,  painted  God  Almighty's  Son 

Like  an  Old  Clothes-man,  about  London  Street ! 
Place  in  his  hand  a  rufly  bag, 
To  hold  each  fweet  collected  rag ; 

\Ve  then  ihall  fee  &e  charaaer  complete^ 


IV  Apoftles  too,  Fm  much  afraid, 
Were  not  the  fellows  thou  haft  made — 

For  Heav'n's  fake,  Weft,  pray  rub  them  out  again* 
There's  not  a  mortal  who  believes 
They  look  like  old  *  Salvador's  Thieves, 

Although  they  might  not  look  like  Gentlemen. 


St.  Paul  moft  candidly  declares, 

He  could  not  give  himfelf  high  airs 
Upon  his  perfon  which  was  rather  homely 

But  really  as  for  all  the  reft, 

Save  Judas,  who  was  a  rank  beaft, 
They  all  were  decent  labourers,  and  comely. 

Thy  Spirits  too,  can't  boaft  the  graces  — 

Two  Indian  Angels  by  their  faces  — 
But  fpeak—  where  are  their  wings  to  mount  the  wind  *? 

One  wou'd  fuppofe  M'Bride  f  had  met  'em-* 

If  thou  halt  fpare  ones,  quickly  get  'em.-r- 
Or  elfe  the  lads  will  both  be  left  behind. 

Ghoft  of  Oaaviusl  tell  the  Bard, 

And  thou,  Auguftus,  us'd  fo  hard, 
Why  Weft  hath  murder'd  you,  my  tender  lambs  f 

You  bring  to  mind  vile  Richard's  deed, 

Who  bid  your  Royal  Coudns  bleed, 
For  which  the  world  the  Tyrant's  mem'ry  damns. 


I  muft  own  thou  doft  inherit 
Some  portion  of  the  painting  fpirit  — 

But  trjft  me—  not  extr'ordinary  things  — 
Some  merit  thou  muft  furely  own, 
By  getting  up  fo  near  the  throne, 

And  gaining  whifpers  from  the  be-ft  of  Kings. 


*  Salvator  Rofu,  happy  in  his  chnra&ers  of  Banditti. 


f    Captain  M'Eridc,   famous   for  winging  men   of  wnr? 
V/cU  as  riurkl^eo,    See  his  letter  to  the  Admiralty, 


ODE      III.- 

PETER  adminifteretbfage  Advice  to  very  yottng  Painters, 


JL  EOPLE  mufi  mount  by  flow  degrees  to  glory--* 

'Tis  Stairs  muft  lead  us  to  the  Attic  flory — 
Thus  thought  my  GREAT  old  Name-fake,  PETER  CZAR^- 

Who  bound  himfelf,  in  Holland,  to  a  trade  ; 

A  very  pretty  Carpenter  he  made  : 
And  then  went  hrome  *  and  built  a  Man  of  War. 

The  Lad  who  would  a'Pothecary  ihine, 
Should  powder  Claws  of  Crabs,  and  Jalap,  fine. 

Keep  the  Shop  clean,  and  watch  it  like  a  Porter: 
Learn  to  boil  Glyfters- -nay,  to  give  them  too, 
If  blinking  Nurfes  can?t'  the  bus'nefs  do  ; 

Write  well  the  Labels,  and  wipe  well  the  Mortar. 

Before  that  Boys  can  rife  to  Mafter-Tanners, 

Humble  thofe  Boys  muft  be,  &  mind  their  manners ; 
Defpifing  PRIDE,  whole  wilh  it  is  to  wreck  'em : 

And  mornings,  with  a  bucket  and  a  flick, 

Should  never  once  difdain  to  pick, 
Prom  ftreet  to  ftreet,  fair  lumps  of  Album  Grxcum. 

Thus  fliould  young  Limning  Lads  themfelves  de- 

(mean  j 

Learn  how  to  keep  their  matters  brumes  clean, 
And  learn  to  fqueeze  the  Colours  from  the  Bladders — 

FuibKh  up  Rags*~the  ihining  Pallet  fet — 

Keep  the  Knives  bright — and  eke  the  Eafel  neat— 
Such  arts,  to  Fame's  high  Temple  are  the  Ladders* 

*  To  Rulfia, 


Young  men— fo  ufeful  are  the  arts  I  mention  ; 

(Believe  me,  not  an  atom  is  invention.} 
The  inftant  that  I  pen  this  Ode,  I  know 

A  Jew-like,  fhock-poll'd,  fbrubby,  fliort,  black  man5 

More  like  a  Cobler  than  a  gentleman — 
Working  on  Canvafs,  like  a  dog  in  dough. 

By  Heav'ns  !    with  fcarce  more  knowledges  than 

(thefe, 
He  earns  a  Guinea  ev'ry  Day  with  eafe  ; 

Attempteth  heads  of  Princes,  Dogs,  Cats,  'Squires— 
Now  on  a  Monkey  vent'reth— now  a  Saint- 
Talks  of  himfelfr  and  much  himfelf  admires, 

And  ftruts  the  verieft  Bantam  Cock  of  Paint. 

But  mind  me,  Youths,  I  don't  Conceit  advife, 
Becaufe  'tis  fuifome  to  men's  ears  and  eyes  ; 
Whofe  tongues  might  cover  you  with  ridicule — 
And  pray,  who  loves  the  appellation,  Fool  ? 

Yet,  if  in  fpite  of  all  the  Mufe  can  fay, 
You  will  injtft  on  going  the  wrong  way. 
And  wifb  to  be  a  Laughing-flock — 
Copy  our  little  old  black  Bantam  Cock— 

Whofe  foul,  moreover  of  fuch  fort  is — 

With  fo  much  acrimony  overflows, 

As  makes  him,  vvherefoe'er  he  g6es, 
A  walking  Thumb-bottle  of  Aqua  fortis. 


ODE        IV, 

Tbe  Lyric  Bard  commendeth  Mt\  GAINSBOROUGH'S 
Kecommendeth  LANDSCAPE  to  the  Artlfl. 


ND  now,  O  Mufe,  with  fong  fo  big, 
Turn  round  to  $&MtifVUVi  Girl  and 


C        13        1 

<5r  Pig  and  Girl  I  rather  ihould  have  faid  r 

The  Pig  in  white,  I  mud  allow, 

Is  really  a  well  painted  Sow  : 
I  wilh  to  fay  the  fame  thing  of  the  Maid> 

As  for  poor  St.  Leger  and  Prince,. 

Had  I  their  places  I  fhould  wince, 
Thus  to  be  gibbeted  for  weeks  on  high  .° 

Juft  like  your  felons  after  death, 

On  Bagftiot,  or  on  HounfloW  Heathv 
That  force  from  travellers  the  pitying  figh, 

.  Yet  Gainsborough  has  great  merit  too, 
Wou'd  he  his  charming  fort  purfue — 

To  mind  his  Landfcape  have  the  modeft  grace- 
Yet  there  fometimes  are  Nature's  tints  deipis'd 
I  wifh  them  more  attended  to,  and  prized, 

Ihftead  of  Trump'ry  that  ufurps  their  place, 


ODE        V, 

PETER  flrarfittetb  with  1?&T9—proveth  its  fatal  iricon- 
yeniencies. — Accounteth  for  the  Leannefs  and  Rags 
of  the  MUSES— Difplayetb  Military  Science,  Telleth 
a  wonderful  ft ory  of  a  SPANISH  MARQUIS— 7>7/^/>&  fen* 
fibly  of  a  Greyhound,  a  Hawk,  and  a  Race-Horfe, 
Point eth  out  the  proper  Subjects  for  Greafe. 

IT  A  INTERS  and  Poets  never  fhould  be  Fat— 
^  Sons  of  Apollo  !  liften  well  to  that, 

rat  is  foul  weather—dims  the  Fancy's  fight  : 

In  poverty,  the  wits  more  nimbly  mutter  ; 

Thus   Stars,  when  pinch'd  by  froft,   cafl   keener 

(luftre 
Oil  the  black  blanket  of  OLD  MOTHER  NIGHT'O 

Your  heavy  Fat,  I  will  maintain, 
Is  .pe.fe-ft  Birdlime  of  the  Brain  : 


E        14       ] 

And,  as  to  Goldfinches  the  birdlime  clings— 
Fat  holds  Ideas  by  the  legs  and  wings. 

Fat  flattens  the  mod  brilliant  Thoughts, 

Like  the  Buff-Stop  on  Harpfichords,  or  Spinnets— 
Muffling  their  pretty  little  tuneful  throats, 
That  would  have  chirp*  d  away  like  Linnets. 

Not  only  Fat  is  hurtful  to  the  Arts, 
But  LOVE,  at  Fat— e'en  LOVE  ALMIGHTY  ftarts, 
LOVE  hates  large,  lubberly,  fat,  clumfy  Fellows, 
Panting  and  blowing  like  a  Blackfmith's  Bellows. 

In  Parliament,  amidft  the  various  chat, 
What  eloquence  of  NORTH'S  is  loft  by  Fat  ! 
Mute  iir  his  head-piece  on  his  bofom  hung, 
How  many  a  Speech  hath  flept  upon  his  Tortgue  ! 

So  far  Apollo's  right,  I  need  mufc  own, 
To  keep  his  Sons  and  Daughters  high  in  bone  : 
The  NINE  too,  $s  from  Hiftofy  we  glean. 
Are  like  Doit  Quixote's  ROSINANTE,  lean  ; 

Who  likew^ife  fancy  all  incumbrance  bad, 
And  therefore  travel  very  thinly  clad  ; 
Looking  like  Damfels  juft  efcap'd  from  jails, 
With  backs  al  frefeo.,  and  with  tatter' d  tails, 

How,  with  large  foils  of  Fat,  would  aft 

A  Soldier,  or  a  Sailor  ? 
And  'tis  a  well-attefted  faft, 

A polld  was  as  nimble  as  a  Taylof, 
How  could  he  elfe  have  caught  that  handfome  flirt> 
Miss  DAPHNE,  racing  through  the  pools  and  dirt  ? 

The  Marquis  of  CERONA,  of  great  Parts, 

Could  fcarce  fupport  himfelf,  he  was  fo  big — 

He  ftarv'd— drank  Vinegar  by  .pints  and  quarts, 
And  got  down  to  a  Chriftian— from  a  Pig, 

Some  Author  fays,  his  skin  (but  fome  will  doubt  him) 
Would  fold  a  half-a-dozen 'times  about  biffl. 


C      «      ] 

Reader!— of  lie  I  urge  not  an  iota: 

His  skin  would  really  round  his  body  come, 
Though  tight  before  as  parchment  on  a  drum— 

Juft  like  a  Portugefe  Capota. — 

Yes,  yes,  indeed  I  folemnly  repeat, 
Painters  and  Bards  fhould  very  little  eat: 
No  matter,  verily,  how  (light  their  fare — 
Nay,  though  Camelion-like,  they  fed  on  air — 

Elfe  they're,  like  Ladies  much  inclined  to  Feeding— 
Who,  often  when  they  fatten,  leave  off  breeding.} 
Or,  like  the  Hen,  facetious  ./Efop's  ftory— 
So  known— I  ftyatt  not  lay  the  Tale  before  ye. 

You  would  not  load  with  Fat,  a  Runmng-Horfe, 
Or  Greyhound  you  defign  to  courfe  ; 
Nor  would  you  fatten  up  the  Hawk, 
You  mean  to  nimble  birds  to  talk. 

Then  pray,  young  Brufhmen,  if  you  wi(h  to  thrive, 
And  keep  your  Genius,  and  the  Art  alive, 

Gobble  not  quantities  of  flefti  and  fiih  up  : 

BEINGS  who  can  no  harm  from  Fat  receive, 
May  feaft  fecurely— then  for  HeavVs  fake  leave 

Greafe  to  an  Alderman,  a  Hog,  or  Bilhop 


ODE        VI. 

PETEH  flatter eth  Mr.  MASON  .CHAMBERLAINE-- and  that 
mofl  brilliant  Landfcape  Painter^  Mr.  LOUTHER- 
BOURGH— PETER  admiretb^prdifetb^and  confoletb  the 
Englijb  Claude,  WILSON. 


H  Y  Portraits,  Chamberlaine*  may  be 
A  likenefs,  far,  as  I  can  fee  ; 


t       -16      .] 

faith  !  I  cannot  praife  a  fingle  feature  ; 
Yet,  when  it  fo  lhall  pleafe  the  Lord, 
To  make  his  people  out  of  Board, 
Thy  pldures  will  be  tolerable  Nature. 

And  IsQutherbourgh^  when  Heav'n  fo 
To  make  Brafs  Skies,  and  Golden  Hills, 

With  Marble  Bullocks  in  Glafs  Failures  grazing  ; 
Thy  reputation  too  will  rife, 
And  people  gaping  with  furprife, 

Cry,  "  Monfieur  Loutherbeurgb  is  moil  amazing 

But  thou  muft  wait  for  that  event- 
Perhaps  the  change  is  never  meant — 

'Till  then,  with  me,  thy  pencil  will  not  fhine-~ 
'Till  then,  old  red-nos'd  ffr/tfoifs  art 
Will  hold  its  empire  o'er  my  heart, 

By  Britain  left  in  poverty  to  pine. 

But,  honeft  PPilfon,  never  mind  ; 

Immortal  praifes  thou  fhalt  find, 
And  for  a  dinner  have  no  caufe  to  fear — 

Thou  ftart'lt  at  my  prophetic  rhimes— 

Don't  be  impatient  for  thofe  times  ; 
Wait  till  thou  haft  been  dead  an  hundred  yeaiv 


O    D    E        VII. 

PETER  breahcth  out  into  learning,  and  talketh  Latin  — 
Advifeth  young  Artifls  to  (So  no  more  than  they  can  do^ 
Recommendeth  to  each  the  Knowledge  of  his  Genius. 
PETER  talketh  of  ^fop's  Fables  and  Mr.  SIUBBS— 
PETER  venturetb  on  the  Stage—  tiecordeth  a  Story  of 
an  AEtor^  and  cencludeth  facetioufy. 


<^L,  U  t  fit,  Maccna^  ut  nemo  quam  fibi  fortem" 
Was  partly  written  for  thofe  fools 
Who  (light  the  very  art  that  would  fupport  'emt 
In  fpite  of  Gratitude's  and  Wifdom's  rules* 


[    I?    ] 

It  brings  to  mind  old  ^Efop's  tale,  fo  fwee't, 

Of  a  poor  country-bumpkin  of  a  "Stag, 
Who  us'd  to  curfe  his  clurnfy  Legs  and,  Feet, 
.  But  of  his  Horns  did  wonderfully  brag. 

Unlike  our  London  poor  John  Bulls, 
Who,  from  the  Wardrobe  of  their  fculls, 
Could  with  the  greateil  pleafure,  piece-meal  tear 
Such  pretty-looking  ornamental  geer. 

But,  to  the  ftory  of  the  Buck, 

Like  (many  Engliih  ones)  muck  out  of  luck. 

When  to  a  thicket  Mailer  Buck  was  chas'd  ; 

His  fav'rite  Horns  contriv'd  to  fpoil  his  trot- 
By  keeping  the  young  'Squire  in  limbo  faft, 

Till  John  the  Huntfman  came  and  cut  his  throat. 

Unfortunately  for  the  Graphic  Art, 
•Painters  too  often  their  true  genius  thwart  ; 
Mad  to  accompliih  what  Can  ne'er  be  done, 
They  form  for  cnticifm— a  world  of  fun, 

The  Man  of  Hift'ry  longs  to  deal  in  little, 
tjuits  lafting  oil,  for  periftiable  fpittle  : 

The  Man  of  Miniature  to  Hift'ry  fprings, 
Mounts  with  an  ardor  wild  the  broom-like  Brufh, 

Makes  for  Sublimity  a  daring  pulb, 
And  ihows>  like  Icarus^,  his  feeble  wings0 

9Tis  faid  that  nought  fo  much  the  temper  rubs 
Of  that  ingenius  Artift,  Mr;  STUBBS, 
vAs  calling  him  a  Horfe-painter— How  ftrange, 
That  STUBBS  the  title  Ihould  defire  to  change  ! 

Yet  doth  he  curfes  on  th'  pccafion  utter, 
And  foolim.  quarrels  with  his  bread  and  butter. 
Yes,  after  Landfcape,  Gentlemen  and  Ladies, 
This  very  Mr*  STUBBS  prodigious  mad  is  ; 
C 


F     is     ] 

So  quits  his  Horfe^on  which  the  man  might  ride 
To  Fame's  -fair  Temple  happy  and  unhurt  ; 

And  takes  a  Hefcby-horfe  to  gall  his  pride, 
That  flings  him,  like  a  Jubber?  In  the  dirt, 

The  felf-fame  folly  reigns,  too,  on  the  Stage, 
Such  fqr  impoffibilities  the  rage  ! 
The  Man  ot  Farce,  to  Tragedy  afpires, 
And,  calf-like,  bellowing,  feels  heroic  fires-- 

WESTON  for  Hamlet  and  Othello  figh'd, 
And  thought  it  dev'liftrhard  to  be  deny*d,<** 
The  courtly  ABINGTON'S  untoward  Star 
Wanted  her,  reputation  much  to  mar* 
And  fmk  the  Lady  to  the  Walhing-tub— 
So  whifper'd—  c<  Mrs,  Abington,  play  Scrub" 
To  folly  full  as  great,  fome  imp  may  lug  her, 
And  bid  her  (link  in  /?&£,  and 


An  A&or3  living  at  this  time, 

That  now  I  pen  my  verfe  fublime, 
Could  not,  to  fave  his  foul,  find  out  his  fort* 

But  lo  !   it  happened  on  a  lucky  night, 

He  on  the  fubjeft  got  a  deal  of  light  ; 
And  thus  doth  Fame  the  circumftance  report. 

After  exhibiting  to  Pit  and  Boxes9 
To  take  a  dram,  the  A&or  ftroU'd  to 

Where  foon  his  friend  came  in,  fuch  fine  things  faying, 
OfFring  a  thoufand  pretty  falutations, 
With  full-confirming  Oath-ejaculations 

Unto  this  Son  of  Thefp!s9  for  his  playing, 

"  By  Hesv'ns  !"  quoth  he,  "  unrivall'd  is  thy  merit— 
**  Thou  play'dft  to-night,  my  friend^  with  matchlefs  fpirit.t 
*6  Zounds  !  my  dear  fellow,  let  me  go  to  Hell, 
«  If  ever  .part  was  a#ed  half  fo  well  S" 


near  the 


C        19       ] 

The  Aftor  blufh'd,  and  bow'd,  and  filly  lookM, 
To  hear  fuch  compliments  fo  nicely  cookM^ 
Getting  the  better  of  his  mauvaije  honte — 
And  flaring  at  the  other's  fteady  front* 

He  as  W— What  part,  pray f  mean  ye  ?  for,  in  troth, 
"  I  know  of  none  that  you  fhould  fo  commend"— 
"  What  part  1"  reply' d  the  other,  with  an  oath  : 
«  The  hind  part  of  a  JACK-ASS  f,  my  dear  friend  I11 

The  Player*  pleased,  inftead  of  being  hurt, 
Thank'd  him  for  the  difcov'ry  of  his  fort— 
Purfu'd  his  genius—fought  no  higher  game, 
And  by  his  JACK-ASS,  won  unenvfd  fame. 


PETER  alufeth  Mr.  and  Mrs,  CO$WAV. 


F, 


I  E,  Cofiray  !  I'm  afham'd  to  fay 
Thou  own'ft  the  title  of  R.  A.^ 

I  fear,  to  damn  thee  'twas  the  devil's  fending--- 
Some  honeft  calling  quickly  find, 
And  bid  thy  Wife  her  kitchen  mind, 

Or  fhirts  and  ihifts  be  making,  or  be  pending. 

If  Madam  cannot,  make  a  ihirt, 
Or  mend,  or  from  it  waih  the  dirt, 

Better  than  paim»-the  Poet  for  three  fells — 

Or  take  a  fHtch  up  in  thy  Hocking, 

(Which  for  a  wife  is  very  (hocking) 

I  pity  the  condition  of  thy  heels, 
C  2 


t   A  Part  in  one  of  the  Pantomimes,  which  contains  a  larg- 
portion  of  kicking,  braying,  obftinacy,  and  tail-wrisrg-Iin^. 


C  20  1 

What  vanity  was  in  your  skulls, 

To  make  you  a<5t  fo  like  two  fool?, 
T'  expofe  your  daubs,  tho'  made  with  wond'rous  pains 

(out? 

Gould  Raphaels  angry  ghofl  arife, 

And  on  the  figures  cad  his  eyes, 
HeM  catch  a  piftol  up,  and  blow  your  brains  out. 

MUSE,  in  this  critic! fin,"  I  fear, 

Thou  really  haft  been  too  fevere  : 

COSWAY  paints  Miniature  with  truth  and  fpirit, 

And  Mrs,  COSWAY  boalls  a  fund  of  merit. 

Be  more  like  courtly  Horace's  thy  page  ; 
And  (him  of  furious  Juvenal  the  rage, 
Of  whom  old  Scaliger  aflerts — ^  qui  jugulat" — 
Id  efl»- the  fellow  would  not  murder  boggle  at. 

This  Scaliger  employs,  too,  the  word  trucidat  : 
That  is,  the  Bard  would  daili  thro'  thick  and  thin, 

And,  like  a  rirSian,  would  fo  ufe  ye,  that 
He  would  not  leave  a  whole. boiie  in  your  skin0  . 


O    BE        IX, 

PETER,  exhibit  eth  Bible  Knowledge — Condemn  eth  Imita* 
tors,  and  maketk  Comparifiws, 


I  R  JOSHUA— for  I've  read  my  Bible  over, 
Of  whofe  line  art  I  own  myfelf  a  lover, 
Puts  me  in  mind  of  Matthew,  the  firft  chap:^ 
Abram  got  Ifaac — Ifaac,  Jacob  got— 
Jofeph  to  get,  was  lucky  Jacob's  Lot, 

And  all  Ms  brothers, 
Who  very  naf  rally  made  others, 
Continuing  to  the  end  of  a  long  chapter-* 
A  genealogy  I  read  with  rapture. 


[          21          j 

Yet,  poflibly,  not  with  fo  much  delight, 

As  Queensb'ry's  DUKE  delighting  in  good  courfes, 
Reads  (which  I'm  told  he  doth,  from  morn  to  night) 

The  noble  pedigrees  of  Running  Horfes, 
Pertn'd  with  a  deal  of  fubtlety,  and  labor, 
By  that  great  Turf-Apoftle,  Mr,  HEBER, 

Sir  JOSHUA'S  happy  pencil  hath  produc'd 

A  hoft  of  Copyifts,  much  of  the  fame  feature 

By  which  the  art  hath  greatly  been  abus'd — 

I  own  Sir  JOSHUA,  great—but  Nature  greater* 

But  what,  alas  !  is  ten  times  worfe— 

The  progrefs  of  the  Art  to  curfe  : 

The  Copyifts  have  been  copy'd  too  j 

And  that,  I'm  fure,  will  never  do. 

Such  Painters  are  like  Pointers  hunting  game- 
Intent  on  pleafure,  and  Dog-fame  \ 
Suppofe  a  half-a-dozen  dogs,  or  more, 
Snuffing,  and  fcamp'ring,  eroding  the  field  o'er* 

One  Pointer  {cents  the  Partridges-points-* 
Fix'd  like  a  ftatue  on  the  pleafing  gale ! 
How  aft  the  others  ?— Stop  their  icamp'ring  joints  5 
And,  lo  I  one's  Nofe  is  on  his  neighbour's  Tail. 

Perhaps  this  Dog-comparifon  of  mine, 
Though  vaftly  natural,  and  vaftly  fine, 
May  not  be  fully  underftood 
By  all  the  youngling  Painter  Brood  ; 
Therefore,  that  into  error  they  may'nt  roam, 
I  think  1*11  be  a  little  more  at  home. 

Suppofe  a  Damfel  of  the  Cyprian  clafs, 
A  freih-imported,  lovely,  blooming  lafsj  • 

Gay,  carelefs,  fmiling,  ogling  in  the  Park--* 

Suppofe  thofe  charms,  fo  plenfmg  to  the  eye, 
Catch  the  wild  glance,  and  ftart  the  am'rous  figh, 

Of  Tome  young  roving  military  Spark  ! 

Lo  !  as  if  touch'd  by  bailiffs,  or  by  thunder, 
he  flops— all-over  daring  wonder— 


r    ^    3 

A  thotifartci  fancies  his  warm  brain  furfound  s 
And  naii'd,  as  if  .by  magic^  to  &&  ground, 
He  prints  towards  thofe  fafcinatmg  charms 
That  rousM  the  holt  of  Paffions  up  in  arms, 

A  brother  Enfign  fpies  the  ftock-ftill  lad, 

And  fudden  halts^grave  porid'ring  wKat  it  means-*- 

Another4,  Enfign,  taking  this  for  itiad, 

Upon  his  fupple-jack,  deep  marv'ling  leans  i 

Another  Enfigrt,  after  /£»/;;/,  too^  faunt'ririg^ 
Stops  Ihort^and  to  his  eye  applies  his  gl 

To  know  what  ftay'd  hi$  brother  Enfign's  cant'ring^. 
Not  dreaming  of  that  eye-catcher,  the  LASS. 


Thus  npfing  one  the  other's          ^ 
Stands  in  a  goodly  row  the  King's  red  Pack  ; 
Except  the  firfl^  whom  NATURE'S  charms  inflame 
His  nofe  is  properly  towards  the 


E^en  iOj  the  PRESIDENT,  to  NATURE  'true, 
Doth  mark  her  form,  and  all  her  haunts  purfue 
Whil'ft  half  the  filly  Brufhmefl  of  the  land, 
Contented,  take  the  NYMPH  at  fecond-hand, 
Imps,  who  juft  boaft  the  merit  of  Tranflaton** 
fervum  pccus—Imitators* 


0    0    E        X.. 

PETER  jeereth  Mejjleurs  SERRES  ^»^ZOFFANI,  an 
fetb  and  eondemneth  Mr*  BARRET* 


E  R  Ii  E  S  and  ZOFFANI  !  I  weeri, 
I  better  Works  than  yimrs  ha-'-  feen-- 

You'll  fay^  no  compliment  can  Wv.a  be  coldef-** 
Why^  as  you  fearer  are  in  your  prime* 
And  waif  the  itrettgth'nhlg  hand  of  •  Time, 

I  hope  that  you'll  improve  as  you1  grow  older  *3 

*  T'.if  ur^  Is  .-.i  ou;  ;:o  years  of  z&9  and  the  liift  6$  or 


Believe  me,  BARRET,  thou  haft  truth  and  tafte  ; 

Yet  fometimes  art  thou  apt  to  be  unchafte  : 
Too  oft  thy  pencil,  or  thy  genius,  flag's— 

Too  oft  thy  Landfcapes,  Bonfires  feem  to  bef 

And  in  thy  buttling  Clouds-,  methinks  I  fee 
The  Refurreftion  of  OLD  RAGS* 

0  CATTON,  our  poor  feelings  fp'afe* 

Supprefs  thy  trafh  another  year  ; 
Nor  of  thy  folly  make  us  fay  a  hard  thing---- 

And  lo  !  thofe  daubs  among  the  many,. 

Painted  by  Mr.  EDWARD  PENNY  ! 
They  truly  are  not  worth  a  half  a  farthing* 


ODE        XI, 

PETER  cannonadtth  FASHION— -Advifeth  people  to  ufe 
their  own  Eyes  and  Nofes  ;  and  orderethwhat  js  t4 
be  done  -with  a  bad  .Nofe*.- 


o, 


N  E  Year  the  PowVs  of  Faftiiori  ruts 

In  favour  of  the.  Roman  School---; 
Then  hey,  for  Drawing  !  Raphael  and  Poufiiru 

The  folPwing  year,  the  Flemilh  School  {hall  rtrike*. 

Then  hey,  for  ColYing— Rubens  and  Vandyke  j 
And,  lo  !  the  Roman  is  not  worth  a  pin* 

Be  not  imposM  upon  byPAsmoN's  roar — 
FASHION  too  often  makes  a  monftrous  noife$ 

Bids  us,  a  fickle  jade,  like  fools  adore 
The  pooreft  trafti,  the  meanei!  toys* 

And  as  a  Gang  of  Thieves  a  buftle  make* 
With  greater  eafe  your  purle  to  take^ 

So  FASHION  frequently,  her  point  to  gain1* 
Sets  up  ?t  howlj  enough  Cd  fturi  a'  rtone, 

And  fairly  picks  the  Pocket  of  your  Brairfj 
That  is,  if  any  Brain  you  chance  to 


C       *4       I 

Carry  your  eyes  witlryou,  where-e'er  you  go— 
For  not  to  truft  to  them,  is  to  abufe  em, 

As  Nature  gave  them  t'ye$  you  ought  to  know 
The  wife  old  Lady  meant  that  you  fhoul-d  ufe  feffir 

And  yet,  What  thoufands,  to  our  vaft  furprife, 

Of  piaures  judge  by  other  people's  Eyes  ! 

When  Nature  made  a  prefent  of  a  Nofe 
To  each  man's  face*  we  juftly  may  fuppofe 
She  meant,  that  for  itfelf  that  Nofe  Ihould  think* 
And  judge  in  matters  of  Perfume  and  Stink  ; 
Nof  meant  it  for  a  mule  alone*  poor  hack  ! 
To  beam  Horn  Spectacles  upon  its  back--*- 
**  Suppofe  it  cannot  fmell,  what  then?"  you'll  fay,  fling 

(it  away* 


ODE       XIL 

fbe  LYRIC  BAIID  growetb  witty  on  Mr.  PETER'S  Angel 
and  Qbild^-and  Madam  ANGELICA  KAUFFMAN, 


D 


EAR  Peters  I  who,  like  Luke  the  Saint, 
A  inan  of  Gofpel  art,  and  Paint, 

Thy  pencil  flames  not  with  poetic  fury  : 
If  Heat'ii's  fair  Angels  are  like  thine, 
Our  Bucks,  I  think,  0  grave  Divine, 

May  meet  in  t'other  world  the  Nymphs  of  Drury* 

The  Infant  Soul  I  do  not  much  admire  : 

It  boafteth  fomewhat  more  of  flefh  than  fire— 
The  Figure,  Peters,  Cannot  much  adorn  ye  — 

I'm  glad  though,  that  the  red  fac'd  Jutle  Sinnar? 

Poor  foul  1  hatli  made  a  hearty  dinner, 
Before  it  Ventur'd  on  fo  long  a  journey. 


my  plaudit  gains— 
Her  Jin  fo  fweetly  canvafs  ftfiins 


C     *5      3 

Her  Dames,  fo  Grecian  !  give  me  fuch  delight 
But,  were  (he  marry' d  to  fitch  gentle  males, 
As  figure  in  her  painted  tales — 

Irfenr  fhe'd,find  a  ftupid  wedding-night. 


ODE        XIIL 


-lafletb  the  Ladies.— He  tttrneth  Story-teller.-- 
PETER  grievetb*  - 


A 


L  T  H  O  U  G  Hf  the  Ladies  with  fuch  Beauty  b!aze3 

They  very  frequently  my  paffion  raife — 
Their  charms  compenfate,  fcarce,  their  want  of  Tafle~+ 

Palling  amidfl:  the  EXHIBITION  crowd, 

I  heard  fome  Damfels  faflftdnfrbty  loud, 
And  thus  I  give  the  Dialogue  that  pafs'd. 

"Oh  !   the  dear  Man!   (cry'd  one). .look!  /here's"  a 

(bonnct  .! 
^  He  {hall  "paint  r,w — I  am  determined  on  it—    - 

"  Lord  !  Coufin,  fee  !  how  beautiful  the  Gown  ! 
"  What  charming  Colours  !    here's  fine  Lace,    here's 

(Gauze  2 

"  What  pretty  Sprigs  the  fellow  draws  !' 
"  Lord,  Coufin  !  he's  the  clev'reft  man  in  town  f 

fc'  Aye,  coufin,"  cry'd  a  fecond,-  "  very  true — 
cc  And  here,  here's  charming  green;  and  red  and  blue — 
"  There^  a  complexion,  beats  the  Rouge  of  WARREN  !- 
64  See  thofe  red  .Lips,,  oh  la  !  they  are  fo  nice — 
"  What  rofy  Cheeks  then,  Coufin,, to --entice  ! — 
w  Compar'd  to.  this,  all  other  heads  are  carrion.. 
it 

;c  Coufin,  this  Limner  quickly  will  be  feen 
"Painting  the  PRINCESS  ROYAL,  and  the  QUEEJSI  ; 


C      >*'    I 

11  Pray,  don't  you  think  as -I  do,  Coz  f 
"  But  we'll  be  painted  fifft,  that's poz" 

Such  was  the  very  pretty  Converfation, 

That  pafs'd  between  the  pretty  Mifles, 
Whilfl  unobferv'd,  the  glory  of  our  Nation, 

dole  by  them,  hung  SIR  JOSHUA'S  matchlefs  pieces- 
Works  !  that  a  TITIAN'S  hand  could  form  alone — 
Works  !  that  a  REUBENS  had  been  proud  to  own. 

Permit  me,  Ladies,  now  to  lay  before  ye 
What  lately  happenM— therefore  a  true  Story* 


STORY. 


WALKING  one  afternoon  along  the  Strand, 
My  wond'ring  eyes  did  fuddenly  expand 

Upon  a  pretty  learn,  of  Country  LaiTos. 
"  Heav'ns  !  My  dear  beauteous  Angels,  how  d'ye  do  f 

"  Upon  my  foul,  I'm  monftrous  glad  to  fee  ye," 
"-Swinge  !  PETER,  we  are  glad  to  meet  with  you  ; 
"  We're  juft  to  London  come— well,  pray,  how  be  ye? 

"  We're  juft  a  going,  while  'tis  light,    • 

«  To  fee  St,  PAUL'S,  before  'tis  dark, 
<;  Lord  !  come— for  once,  be  fo  polite,. 

<'  And  condefcend  to  be  our  fpark," 

"  With  all  my  heart,  my  Angels,"— On  we  walk'd, 
And  much  of  London— much  of  Cornwall  talk'd  : 

Now  did  I  hug,  myfelf,  to  think 
How  much  that  glorious  ftruclure  would  furprife — 

How  from  its  awful  grandeur  they  would  fhrink, 
With  open  mouths,  and  marv'ling  eyes  ! : 

As  near  to  Ludgate-Hill  we  drew, 
St,  PAUL'S  juft  op'ning  on  our  view  ; 
Behold,  my  lovely  Grangers,  one  and  all, 
Gave,  all  at  once,  a  diabolic  fquall, 


As' if  they  had  been  tumbled  on  the  ftones, 

.And  Tome  confounded  cart  had  crufh'd  their  bone*. 

After  well  fright'ning  people  with  their  cries, 
And  ftickhig  to  a  Ribbon  Shop  their  eyes— 
They  all  rufh'd  in,  with  founds  enough  to  ftun«- 
And  clau'ring  all  together,  thus  begun* 

"  Swinge.!  here  are  Colours  then  to  pleafe! 

"  Delightful  things,  I  vow  to  Heav'n  ! 
**  Why  !  not  to  fee  fuch  things  as  thefe? 

"  We  never  Ihould  have  been  forgiv'n, 

"  Here,  here,  are  clever  things— good  Lord  ! 

"  And,  fifter,  here,  upon  my  word— 
46  Here,  here  !  look  !  here  nre  beauties  to  delight; 

«  Why  J  how  a  body's  heels  might  dance 

<c  Along,  from  Launcefton  to  Penzance, 
<c  Before  that  one  might  meet  with  fuch  a  fight  !'* 

«*  Come,  Ladies,  'twill  be  dark,"  cry'd  I~tf  I  fear ; 

"  Pray,  let  us  view  St,  PAUL'S,  it  is  fo  near"— 

"  Lord  !  PETER,  (cry'd  the  girls)  don't  mind  St,  PAUL  ! 

"4  Sure  !  you're  a  moft  incurious  foul— 

««  Why,  we  can  fee  the  Church  another  day  : 

"  Don't  be  afraid?  St,  PAUL'S  can't  run  away" 


READER, 

If  e'er  thy  bofom  felt  n  thought  ^ 

Drop  tears  of  pity  with  the  Man  of  Rhime  ! 


ODE        XIV. 

'PETER   difclaimetb  Flattery — Defcribetb   the 
MONARQUE,  and  promifeth  critical  Candor 


T, 


I  S  very  true,  that  .Flattery's  not  "my  fort— 
I  cannot  to  Stupidity  pay  court  — 
And.fwear,  a  face  looks  fenfe,  (the  picture  puffing) 
That  boafts  no  more  ewprejfion  than  a  muffin. 

And  yet,  a  Frenchman  can  do  tliis^ 
And  think  he  doth  not  ad  amifs  ; 

Although  he  tells  a  moft  confounded  lie--^- 
King  LEWIS  leads  me  into  this  remark, 
CalFd  by  his  People  all,  LE  GRAND  MONARQUE-— 

A  Demi-God  in  ev'ry  Frenchman's  eye. 

His  Portrait  by  foine  farrlous  hand  was  done, 

And  then  exhibited  at  the  Salon^ 
At  once  a  courtly  Critic  criticifes, 

"  Where  is  the  brilliant  eye,  the  charming  grace, 

"NThe  fenfe  profound,  that  marks  the  Royal 
"  The  Soul  of  LEWIS,  that  fo  very  wife  is-'?" 

Yet  when  he  bawfd  for  Senfe,  he  bawl'd, 
For  Furniture  the  head  had  never  got. 
Reader,  believe  me,  that  this  Gentleman 
Was  form'd  on  Nature's  very  homely  plan* 


Clumfy  in  leg^^  and  fhoulders,  head  and  gullet* 
His  mouth  abroad  in  feeming  wonder  loft, 
As  if  its  meaning  had  giv'n  up  the  ghoft  ; 

His  eye  far  duller  than  a  leaden  bullet  ; 
Nature  fo  flighting  the  poor  Royal  Nob, 
As  if  ihe  bargained  for  it,  by  the  job. 


Therefore,  fhould  mighty  G ,  or  great  LORD  NORTH* 

Both  Gentlefolks  of  high  condition, 
Think  it  worth  while  to  fend  their  Faces  forth,  ] 

To  Hare  amidft  the  ROYAL  EXHIBITION— 

if  Likenefles,  I'll  not  condemn  the  Pictures, 
To  compliment  thofe  mighty  People's  polls.— 

I  fcorn  to  pafs  unfair,  and  cruel  flriftures, 
By  asking  for  the  Graces,  or  their  Sauls.         4< 


ODE        XV. 


PETER  praifeth-Mr.  STUBBS,  and  adininifteretlo  whole* 
fome  Advice— Surprifeth  Mr.  HONE,  with  a  Compli- 
ment~Condudeih,  with  fitfpefting  the  Ingratitude  of 
the  ROYAL  ACADEMICIANSC 


ELL-pleas9d,  thyHorfes,  Stubbs,  I  view. 
And  eke  thy  Dogs,  to  Nature  true. 

Let  modern  artifts  match  thee,  if  they  can- 
Such  animals  thy  genius  fuit — 
Then  flick,  I  beg  thee,  to  the  Brute; 

And  meddle  not  with  Women,  nor  with  Man* 

And  now  for  Mr.  Nathan  Hone— 

In  portrait,  thou'rt  as  much  alone^ 
As  in  his  Landfcape  (lands  th'  unrivalM  Claude-* 

Of  pi6tures  I  have  feen  enough. 

Moil  vile,  mod  execrable  fluff! 
But  none  fo  bad  as  thine,  I  vow  to  God, 

Thus  in  the  caufe  of  Painting  loyal* 
Sublime  Tve  funj  to  Artids  Royal— 

B 


[        30         ] 

With  Labour-pains  the  Mufe  has  fore  been  torn? 

And  yet  each  Academic  Face, 

I  fear  me,  hath  not  got  the  grace 
To  fmile  upon  the^Bantiing,  now  'tis  born. 


LYRIC    ODES, 

FOR     THE     YEAR     M.D  C  C.LXXXIIL 
Ecce  iterum  Crifpiwtsl 


ODE       I. 

PETER  pujfeth. — Difplayefb  Learning.— -Praifeth  th& 
REVIEWERS.--^/) efcribeth  him f elf  mofl  pathetically. — 
Confoletb  himfelf. — Diftiketh  the  road  to  the  Temple  of 
Fame,  by  means  of  a  pi  ft  ol,  poifon,  or  a  rope.---Addrefs- 

etb  Great  Folks.— Qiveth  the  KING^  broad  hint. ' 

slsketh  a  queer  queftiott.—Maketb  as  queer  an  apoftro- 
pbe  to  GENIUS. 


OONS  of  the  Bfufh,  I'm  hefe  again! 

At  times  a  Pindar,  and^Fontaine, 
Calling  poetic  pearl  (I  fear)  to  fwine! 

For  hang  me,  if  my  hit  year's  Odes 

Paid  rent  for  *  lodgings  near  the  gods, 
Or  put  one  fprat  into  this  mouih  divine* 

*  The  Attic  ftorr,  or,  according  to  the  vulgar  phrafe,  Garret, 


C        Si'       I 

For  Odes,  my  COUSIN  had  rump-fteaks  to  eat! 

So  fays  Pan  fanias— loads  of  dainty  meat ! 
And  this  the  towns  of  Greece,  to  give,  thought  fit: 

The  bed  hiftorians,  one  and  all,  declare. 

With  the  moft  folemn  air, 
The  poet  might  have  guttled,  'till  he  fplit. 

How  diiPrent  far,  alas,  my  Worfhip's  fate  J 

To  foothe  the  horrors  of  an  empty  plate, 
The  grave  *  PofTefTors  of  the  Critic  Throne 

Gave  me,  in  truth,  a  pretty  treat — 

Of  flatt'ry,  mind  me,  not  of  meat ; 
For  they,  poor  fouls,  like  me,  are  skin  and  bone. 

No,  no !  with  all  my  Lyric  pow'rs, 

I'm  not  like  Mrs.  Cos  WAY'S  t  Hours, 
Red  as  cock-turkies,  plump  as  barn-door  chicken: 

Merit  and  I  are  miferably  off— 

We  both  have  got  a  moft  confumptive  cough; 
Hunger  hath  long  our  harmfefs  bones  been  picking. 

Merit  and  I,  fo  innocent,  fo  good, 

Are  like  the  little  Children  in  the  Wood— 

And  foon,  like  them,  fhall  lay  us  down  and  die! 
May  fome  good  Chriftian  Bard,  in  pity  firing, 
Turn  Redbreaft  kind,  and  with  the  fweetelt  fong 

Bewail  our  haplefs  fate  with  wat'ry  eye! 

Poor  Chattertpn  was  ftarv'd — with  all  his  art ! 

Some  confol&tion  this  to  my  lean  heart — 
Like  him,  in  holes  too,  fpider-like,  I  mope: 

And  there  my  Rev'rence  may  remain,  alas ! 

The  world  will  not  difcover  it— the  afs ! — 
Untji  I  fcrape  acquaintance  with  a  rope. 

Then  up  your  Walpoles,  Bryants,  mount  like  bees* 
Then  each  my  pow'rs  with  adoration  fees — 
D  2 


*  See  the  Reviews  for  laft  year. 

A  fublime  pidhire  this !  the  expreflion  is  truly  Homcrical.  The 
fair  Artift  hath,  in  the  moft  furprifing  manner,  communicated  to 
canvafs  the  old  Bard's  idea  of  thc£rant?y-facy  Hours.  See  the  Iliad- 


Nothing  their  kind  civilities  can  hinder- 
When  like  an  Otho,  I  am  found: 
Like  Jacob's  fons,  they'll  look  one  t'other  round, 

And  cry,    "  Who  would  have  thought  this  a  young 
Pindar?" 

Hanging's  a  difmal  road  to  fame — 
Piftols  and  poifon  juft  the  fame — 

And,  what  is  worfe,  one  can't  come  back  again- 
Soon  as  the  beauteous  gem  we  find. 
We  can't  difplay  it  to  mankind, 

Tho'  won  with  fuch  wry  mouths,  and  wriggling  p^m, 

Ye  Lords  and  Dukes  fo  clever,  fay* 

(For  you  have  much  to  give  away, 
And  much  your  gentle  patronage  I  lack) 

Speak,  is  it  no; -a  crying  fin, 

That  Folly's  guts  are  to  his  chin, 
Whilft  mine  are  flunk  a  mile  into  my  back  ? 

Oft,  as  his  Sacred  Majefty  I  fee, 

Ah  1   George  (I  figh)  thou  haft  good  things  with 

thee, 
Would  make  me  fportive  as  a  youthful  cat: 

It  is  not  that  my  foul,  fo  loyal, 

Would  wifti  to  wed  the  Princefs  Royal, 
Or  be  Archbifhop — no  !  I'm  not  for  that* 

•Nor  really  have  I  got  the  grace 
To  wifh  for  LaureatWhitehead's  place; 
Whofe  Odes  Cibberian— fweet,  yet  very  manly* 
Are  fet,  with  equal  ftrength,  by  Mr.  Stanley. v 

Would  not  one  fwear,  that  Heav'n  lov'd  fools? 
There's  fuch  a  number  of  them  made?— 

I5um-proof  to  all  the  flogging  of  the  fchools, 
TsTo  ray  of  knowledge  could  their  skulls  pervade  :-* 

Yet,  take  a  peep  into  thofe  fellows'  breeches^ 

We  ftare>.  like  congers,  to  obferve  the  richer 


I         33        ] 

O  genius !  what  a  wretch  art  thoti, 
That  canft  not  keep  a  mare  nor  cow, 
With  all  thy  compliment  of  wit  fo  frisky ; 
Whilft  Folly,  as  a  mill-horfe  blind, 
Befide  his  compter,  gold  can  find, 

Sundays  fport  a  ftrumpet  atid  a  whisky. 


ODE        II. 


PETER  criticifethr-AddrefTeth  the  Brittjb  RAPHAEL.— 
Promifetb  Mr.  WEST  great  things,  and?  like  great 
folks ,  breaketh'his  word. — Laugh  eth  at  the  Figure  of 
King  CHARLES — Lajbetfy  at  that  of  OLIVER  CROM*- 
WELL  ;  and  ridiculeth  the  picture  of  Peter  and  John 
running  to  the  Sepulchre. — Underftandeth  plain-work, 
and  juftly  condemneth  the  flortnefs  of  the  flirts  of  Mr. 
WEST'S  Singe  Is. — Conclude  tb,  with  making  that  Art ifl 
a  handfome  offer  of  an  American  Immortality. 


Now 


W  for  my  criticifm  on  paints, 
Where  bull-dogs,  heroes,  finners,  faints, 
Flames,  thunder,  lightning,  in  confufion  meet  ! 
Behold  -the  works  of  Mr.  WEST! 
That  artift  firft  (hall  be  addreft— 
His  pencil  with  due  reverence  I  greet- 
Still  bleeding  from  his  laft  year's  wound, 
Which  from  my  doughty  lance  he  found  ; 
Merhinks  I  hear  the  trembling  Painter  bawl', 
"  Why  doft  thou  perfecute  me,  Saul  ? 

Weft,  let  me  whifpcr  in  thy  ear — 

Snug  as  a  thief  within  a  mill, 
From  me  thou  haft  no  caufe  to  fear  : 

To  panegyric  will  I  turn  my  skill  ; 
And  if  thy  picture  I  am  forc'd  to  blame, 
I'll  fay  moll  handfome  things  about  the  frame. 


t       34       3 

' t  be  caft  down— inilead  of  gal!, 
Molafles.  from  my  pen  fhall  fail  : 

And  yet  I  fear  thy  gullet  it  is  fuch, 
That  could  I  pour  all  Niagara  down, 
Were  Niagara  praife,  thou  wouldft  not  frown, 

Nor  think  the  thund'ring  gulph  one  drop  too  mucks 

Ye  Gods  !  the  portrait  of  the  King! 

A  very  Saracen  !  a  glorious  thing  ! 
It  Ihows  a  flaming  pencil^  let  me  tell  ye— 

Methinks  I  fee  the  people  flare, 

And,  anxious  for  his  life,  declare, 
"  King  George  hath  got  a  fire-ihip  in  his  belly  .'* 

Thy  Charles  !  What  muft  I  fay  to  that  ? 

Each  face  unmeaning,  and  fo  flat  ! 
Indeed  firft  coufm  to  a  piece  of  board — 

But,  Mufe,  we've  prornis'd,  in  pur  lays, 

To  give  our  Tan  key  Painter  praife  ; 
So,  Madam,  'tis  but  fair  to  keep  our  word* 

Well  then,  the  Charles  of  Mr.  fFeft, 

And  Oliver,  I  do  proteft, 
And  eke  the  *  witnefles  of  refurreftion  ! 

Will  flop  a  hole,  keep  out  the  wind, 

And  make  a  prop'rer  window-blind 
Than  great  f  Correggio's,  us'd  for  horfe-protection. 

They'll  make  good  floor-cloths,  taylors'  meafures^ 

For  table-coverings,  be  treafures, 
With  butchers,  form  for  flies,  mofl:  charming  flappers 

And  Monday  mornings  at  the  tub. 

When  Queens  of  fuds  their  linen  fcrub, 
Make  for  the  blue-nos'd  nymphs  delightful  wrappers, 


*  Peter  and  John. 

Correggio's  bell  pi&ures  were  a<5bually  made  ufe  of,  in 
the  Royal  Stables  in  the  North,  t$  keep  the  wind  from  th$ 
of  the  horfes* 


C        35       ] 

We  ft)  I  forgot  laft  year  to  fay, 
Thy  /Inge Is  did  my  delicacy  hurt ; 

Their  linen  fo  much  coarfenefs  did  difplay  : 
What's  worfe,  each  had  not  above  half  a  Ihirt. 

I  tell  thee,  cambrick,  fine  as  webs  of  fpiders, 

Ought  to  have  deck'd  that  brace  of  heav'nly  Riders 

Could  not  their  faddle-bags,  pray,  jump 
To  foraevvliat.  longer  for  each  rump  ? 
I'd  buy  much  better  at  a  Wapping  fhop, 
By  vulgar  tongues  baptiz'd— a  flop  ! 
Do  mind,  my  friend,  thy  hits,  another  time, 
And  thou  fhalt  cut  a  figure  in  my  rhime. 

Sublimely  tow'rjng  'midft  th'  Atlantic  roar, 
Fll  waft  thy  praifes  to  thy  *  native  {hore ; 
Where  Liberty's  brave  fons  their  Pa?ans  fing, 
And  ev'ry  fcoundrel  Convid:  is  a  king*  f 


ODE      III. 

The  Poet  addreffeth  Mr.  GAINSBOROUGH.    Sbewetb 
great  Scripture  erudition.     Condemneth  Mr.  GAINS- 
BOROUGH'^  Plagiarifm.    Givetb  the  Art i ft  whole fome.  - 
advice.    Praifeth  the  Cornijh  Boy  ;  and  fayeth  fine 
things  to  JACKSON. 


N, 


O  W,  GAINSB'ROUGII,  let  me  view  thy  Ihining  la 
bours, 

Who  mounted  on  thy  painting  throne, 
On  other  Brulhmen  look'ft  contemptuous  down, 
-Like  our  great  Adm'rals  on  a  gang  of  fwabbers. 

*  America. 

t  Our  readers  will  pleafc  to  recoiled,  that  the  author  wrote 
in  England:  and  as  be  did  not  fpare  even  his  1-uvful  fovereign, 
King  George ;  the  Americans,  whom  he  coniktered  as  enemies, 
could  ntft  expe^  much  lenity. 


; 

My  -eyes,  broad-flaring  Wonder  leads 

To  yon  dear  *  neft  of  Royal  heads  ! 
How  each  the  foul  of  my  attention  pulls  ! 

Suppofe,  my  friend,  thou  giv'fl  the  frame 

A  pretty  little  Bible-name, 
And  call'fl:  it  Golgotha,  the  place  of  Skulls  ? 

Say,  didft  thou  really  paint  'em  (to  be  free)  ? 

An  Angel  fininYd  Luke's  tranfcendent  line- 
Perchance  that  civil  Angel  was  with  thee — 

For,  let  me  perifti,  if  I  thin-k  them  thine. 

Thy  f,  Dogs  are  good  !—  but  yet,  to  make  thee  fiare? 
The  piece  hath  gain'd  a  number  of  deriders — 

They  tell  thee,  Genius  in  it  had  no  fliare, 
But  that  thou  foully  ftol'fl  the  Curs  from  Snyders, 

I  do  not  blame  thy  borrowing  a  hint  : 

For,  to  be  plain,  there's  nothing  in't — 
The  man,  who  fcorns  to  do  it,  is  a  log, 

An  eye,  an  ear,  a  tail,  a  npfe, 

Were  modefty,  on^  might  fuppofe  ; 
But  z — ds  I  thou  muft  not  fmuggle  the  whole  Dog* 

O  GAINSB'ROUGH,  Mature  plaineth  fore, 

That  thou  had  kick'd  her  out  of  door, 

Who,  in  her  bounteous  gifts,  hath  been  fo  free* 

To  cull  .fuch  genius  out  for  thee— 

Lo  !  all  thy  efforts,  without  her,  are  vain  ! 

Go,  find  her,  kifs  her,  and  be  friends  again. 

Speak,  Mu^e,  who  form'd  that  marchlefs  head  ; 
The  Cornilh  Boy  §  in  tin-mines  bread  ; 
Whofe  native  genius,  like  his  diamonds,  fhone 
In  fecret,  'till  chance  gave  him  to  the  fun. 
'Tis  JACKSON'S  portrait— put  the  laurel  on  it, 
While  to  tkit  tuneful  Swan  I  pour  a  Sonnet. 


*  A  frame  full  of  heads,  in  moft  bumble  imitation  of 
Roval  Family, 
t  A  picture  of-  Bovs  fetting  Dogs  to  fight, 

SOPIE. 


C        3?        ] 


S    O    N.  N    E    T. 
TO  JACKSON  OF  EXETER, 


ENCHANTING  Harmonift'!  die  art  is  thine, 
Unmatch'd,  to  pour  the  foul-ditfblving  air. 

That  feeins  poor  weeping  Virtue's  hymn  divine. 
Soothing  the  wounded  bofom  of  defpair  ! 

O  fay,  what  Minftrel  of  the  sky  hath  giv'ri 
To  fwell  the  dirge,  fo  mnfically  lorn  ? 

Declare,  hath  dove-ey'd  Pity  left  her  heav'ri, 
And  lent  thy  happy  hand  her  lyre,  to  mourn  ? 

So  fad,  thy  fongs  of  hopelefs  hearts  complain^. 
Love,  from  his  Cyprian  ifle,  prepares  to  fly  ; 

He  hades,  to  ifflen  to  thy  tender  ftrain, 
And  learn,  froin  thee,  to  breathe  a  fweeter  figh0 


ODE        V. 

The  GREAT  PETER,   by  a  bold  Pindaric  jump3  leapefb 
from  Sonnet  to  Gull-cat  chin  g* 


.,  doft  know  the  mode  of  catching  Gulls? 
If  not,  I  will  inform  thee—  Take  a  board, 
And  place  a  fiih  upon  it,  for  the  fools— 
A  Sprat,  or  any  fifh  by  Gulls  ador'd. 

Thofe  birds,  who  love  a  lofty  flight, 
And  fometimes  bid  {he  Sun  good  night  5 


C        3*        ] 

Spying,  the  glitt'ring  bait  that  floats  below ; 

Sans  ceremonie..  down  they  rush, 

(For  gulls  have  got  no  manners)— on  they  pufh  ; 
And  what's  the  pretty  confequence,  I  trow  ? 

They  flrike  their  gentle  jobbernowls  of  lead 

Plump,  on  the  board — then  lie,  like  Boobies,  dead* 

Reader,  thou  need'ft  not  beat  thy  brains  -about, 
To  make  fo  plain  an  application  out- 
There' s  many  a  painting  Puppy,  take  my  word, 
Who  -knocks  his  filly  head  againft  a  board— 
That  mght  have  help'd  the  ftate— made  a, good  Jailor3 
A  Nightman,  or  a  tolerable  Taylor. 


ODE        VL 


PETER  difcovereth  wore  Scriptural  Erudition. — Growetb 
farctifiic  on  the  Exhibition.  Givetb  a  wonderful  ac 
count  of  St.  Y)£VW\s.~Blujljeth  for  the  bonour  of  bis 
country.— Talketh  fenfihly  of  the  Due  DE  CHARTRES^ 
and  the  FRENCH  King. 


IND  me  in  Sodom  out,"  (exchim'd  the  Lord) 
"  Ten  Gentlemen^  the  place  (ha'n't  be  untown'd— 

*'-  That  is,  I  will  not  burn  it,  ev'ry  board  :" 
The  dev'l'  a  Gentleman  was  to  be  found  ! 

But  this  was  rather  hard,  fmce  Heav'n  well  knew,  . 

That  ev'ry  Fellow  in  it  was  a  Jew. 

This  houfe  is  nearly  in  the  fjime  condition- 
Scarce  r.re  good  things^  amid  tbofe  wide  abodes- 
Find  me  ten  pi&ures  in  this  Exhibition, 
That  ought  not  to  be  d — ifd,— I'll  burnmy  Odes  ! 


C      s^    '  3 

And  then  the  world  will  be  in  fits  and  vapours, 
jufl  as  it  was,,  for  poor  Lord  Mansfield's  papers  *  * 

St.  Dennis,  when  his  jowl  was  taken  off, 
Hugg'd  it,  and  kifs'd  it— earry'dit  a  mile — 

Tfris  was  a  pleafant  miracle  enough, 
That  maketh  many  an  unbeliever  finile. 

"  'Sblood  !   'tis  a  lie  f  you  roar—Pray  do  not  fwear, 
You  may  believe  the  wond'rous  tale  indeed  ! 

Speak,  ha'ri't  you  faid,  ttiat  many  a  picture  here 
Was  really  done  by  folks  wkhout  ^bead^ 

And  ha'nt  you  fworn,  this  inftant,  with  furprife, 

That  he,  who  did  that  thing,  had  neither  hands  nor  eyes? 

How  is  it,  that  fitch  miferable  Huff, 

The  walls  of  this  (luperidous  building  ftains? 
'The  Council's  ears,  with  pleafure,  I  coiihlcufF; 
Mind  me— I  don't  fay,  batter  out  their  brains. 
\  What  will  Duke  Chart  res  fay,  when  he  goes  home, 
And  tells  King  Lew's,  all  about  the  Room  ? 

1  Why,  viewing  fuch  a  fee  of  red-hot  Meads, 

Our  Exhibition  he  will  liken  He/I  to  ; 
Then  to  the  Monarch ,  who  both  writes  and 

Give  hand-bills  of  the  Wond'rous  Katterfelto 
Swearing,  th'  Academy  was  all  fo  flat, 

He'd  rather  fee  the  fFizant^nd  his  Cat,  f 


*  ^To  the  irreparable  lofs  of  the  public,  and  that  great  Law 
Expounder,  burnt  !  bunlt  in  Lord  George  Gordon's  religious 
conflagration.  The  news-papers  howled  for  mendis,  over  their 
allies.— Obe  !  jam  fatti  eft. 

f  It  may  not  be  unneceflary,  on  this  fide  tn'er  Atlantic,  to  in 
form  fome  of  our  readers,  that  the  famous  Dr.  Katterfelto,  for 
a  confiderable  time,  attracted  the  attention— and  the  money— 
of  the  good  people  of  Britain,  by  the  exhibition  of  a  wonder 
ful  black  cat,  that  performed  furprizing  feats  :  infomuch  that 
the  common  people  imagined,  it  muft  have  been  the  Devil 
himielf,  in  a  cat's  skin. 


t     40    ] 

ODE        VIII. 

The  BRITISH  PETER  elegantly  and  happily  depifteth  kh 
Great  Coufin  of  THEBES.  —Talketb  of  Fame.  Horfe- 
whippet b  the  Painters,  for  turning  their  own  Trum 
peters. 


A 


Defultory  way  of  writing, 
A  ht)p  and  ftep  and  jump  mode  of  inditing, 

My  great  and  wife  relation,  Pindar,  boafted  : 
Or  (for  I  love  the  bard  to  flatter) 
By  jerks,  like  Boar-pigs  making  water, 
Whatever  firft  came  in  his  fconce, 
Bounce,  out  it  flew,  like  bottle-ale,  at  once— 

A  Cock,  a  Bull,  a  Whale,  a  Soldier  roafted. 

What  {harks  we  mortals  are  for  Fame  ! 

How,  poacher-like,  we  hunt  the  game  ! 
No  matter,  for  it,  how  we  play  the  fool— 

And  yet,  'tis  pleafing  our  own  laud  to  heais*. 

And  really  very  natural  to  prefer 
One  grain  of  Praife,  to  pounds  of  Ridicule. 

I've  loft  all  patience  with  the  trade — 

I  mean  the  Painters — who  can't  flay, 
To  fee  their  works  by  Criticifm  difplay'd, 

And  hear,  what  others  have  to  fay  ; 

But,  calling  Fame  a  vile  old  lazy  {trumpet. 
Sound  their  own  praife,  from  their  own  * 

Amidft  the  hurly-burly  of  my  brain, 
Where  the  mad  Lyric  Mufe,  with  pain, 
Hamm'ring  hard  verfe,  her  skill  employs, 
And  beats  a, tinman's  fhop  in  nolle; 
Catching  wild  tropes  and  fimilies, 
That  hop  about,  like  fwarms  of  fleas--- 


^  *    At.  the  beginning  of 'the  Exhibition,  the  public 
fvvarmed  with  thofe  fdf-adulators, 


[        4*        J 

We've  loft  '"SiR  JOSHUA— Ah!  that  charming  Elf, 
I'm  griev'd  to  fay,  hath  this  year  loft  ffimftjf. 

Oh  !  Richard ',  thy  .f  St.  George.,  fo  brave, 
'Wifdom  and  Prudence  could  not  favc, 

Prom  being  foully  murder'd,  my  good  friend. 
Some  weep,  to  fee  the  woful  figure; 
Whilft  others  laugh,  and  many  fnigger, 

As  if  their  mirth  would  never  have  an  end. 

* 

Prithee,  accept  th' advice  I  give  with  forrow— 
Of  poor  St.  George  the  ufelefs  armour  borrow, 

To  guard  thy  own  poor  corpfe— don't 'be  a  mule- 
Take  it—  ev'n  now  thou'rt  like  a  hedgehog  quiff  i^ 
(Richard,  I  hope  in  God,  thou  art  not  /h'//W) 

By  the  dire  fhafts  of  mertflefs  ridicule. 

Pity  it  is  I  'tis  true?  'tis  pity! 
(As  Shakefpeare  lamentable  fays} 

That  thou,  in  this  obferving  City, 
Thou  runn'ft  a  wh-r-ng  after  PRAISE. 

With  ftrong  defires  I  really  think  thee  fraught; 
But,  Dick,  the  Nymph  fo  coy  will  not  be  caught. 

Yet,  for  thy  confolation,  mind! 

In  this  tfty  wounded  pride  may  refuge  find — 
Think  of  the  Sage,  who  wanted  a  fine  piece : 

Who  went,  in  vain,  five  hundred  miles  at  lcn!t> 

On  Lais,  a  fweet  fille  de  joie,  to  feaft — 
The  Mrs.  Robinfon  of  Greece* 

Prithee,  give  up,  and  fave  the  paints  and  oil ; 

And  don't  whole  acres  of  good  canvafs  fpoil : 

Thou'lt  fay,  "  Lord !  many  hundreds  do  like  me" 
Lord!  fo  have  fellows  robtfd—  nay,  further, 
Hundreds  of  villains  liave  committed  Murthsr  . 

But,  Richard,  are  thefe  Precedents  for  tbee-? 
E 

t    See  Mr.  Cofvvay's  pidlure  of  Prudence,  Wifdom,  aiid 
lour,  arming  St.  George. 


N 


C      42 


ODE        VIII. 

PETER  growefb  facetious. 


ATURE's  a  coarfe,  vile,  daubing  jade — 
I've  faid  it  often,  and  repeat  it — 

She  doth  not  underihnd  her  trade— 
A  mils,  ne'er  mind  her  work  !— I  hope  you'll  beat  it* 

for  heaven"1  s  fake,  at  her  skies! 
v  ?— -Smoke,  for  certainty,  I. know; 
:?.  cMmrley-tops,  behold  !  they  rife, 
'.e  by  foine  fweating  Cooks  below. 

Look  at  her  dirt  in  lanes,  from  whence  it  comes: 
.,G::I  hogs,  and  ducks,  and  geefe,  and  horfes' bums— 
The*,  tell  me,  Decency,  I  rnufl  requelt, 
•\i  copy  fuc:i  a  dev'lifh  nafty  beaft? 

— your  canvafs  fpread, 

ai!  of  a  man  of  war 

foal]  eat  up  ev'ry  other  Head, 
:  is  the  Sun  licks  up  each  iheaking  Start 

I  do  r.fTare  you,  bulk  is  no  bad  trick— 
7  y  bulky  things  both  Men  and  Maids  are  taken- 

Mind,  too.*  to  lay  the  paints,  like  mortar,  thick. 
And  make  your  picture  look  as  red  as  Bacon. 

All  folks  love  //^—(believe  my  rhime)— 
,   Burke  fays,  'tis  part  of  the  SuWme. 

A  Dutchman,  I  forgot  his  name— Fan  Gt:out 
yan  Slabbertbaps,  Van  Stink,  Van  Swab, 

No  matter,  tho'  I  cannot  make  it  out — 
At  calling  names  I  never  was  a  dab. 

This  Dutchman  then,  a  man  of  tafte, 
Holding  a  cheefe,  that  weigh' d  a  hundred  pound. 

Thus",  like  a  Burgomafter,  fpoke  with  judgment  yap. 
*'No  Poet,  like  my  broder,  ftep  de  ground: 


C        43 

i;  He  be  de  befteft  poet,  look! 
"  Dat  all  de  vorld  mult  pleafe; 

"  Vor  he  heb  vrite  von  book, 
"  So  big  as  all  dis 


If  at  a  diftanceyoii  Would  paint  a  Pig, 
Make  out  each  fmgle  bridle  on  his  back: 

Or  if  your  meaner  fubjeft  be  a  Wig, 
Let  not  the  caxon  a  diftin&nefi  lack; 

Elfe,  all  the  Lady  Critics  will  fo  flare, 

And,  angry,  vow,  "  'Tis  not  a  bit  like  hair  F* 

Be  fmooth  as  glafs—  like  DENNER,  finiih  high  : 
Then  ev'ry  tongue  commends  — 

For  people  judge  not  only  by  the  eye, 
'But  fee/  your  merit  by  their  finger-ends  ,; 
my!  clofely  'no/ing9  o'er  the  picture,  dwell, 
As  if  to  try  the  Goodnefs  by  the  Smell. 

Claudis  diflances  a^e  too  confus'd— 
One  floating  fcene—  nothing  made  out— 

For  which  he  ought  to  be  abus'd, 
Whofe  works  have  been  fo  cry'd  about. 

Give  me  the  pencil,  whofe  amazing  flyle 
Makes  a  Bird's  beak  appear  at  twenty  mile  ; 

And  to  my  view,  eyes,  legs  and  claws,  will  bring; 
With  ev'ry  feather  of  his  tail  and  wing. 

Make  all  your  trees  alike,  for  Nature's  wiU— 

Fend  of  variety,  a  wayward  child— 

To  blame  your  tafte  feme  blockheads  may  prefunic  5 

But,  mind  that  ev'ry  one  be  like  a  Broojfl, 

Of  Steel  and  pure  ft  Silver  form  yoi;r  voters; 

And  make  your  Clouds  like  Rocks  ar. 

Whene'er  you  paint  the  Mocn,  if  you  are  willing 
To  gain  applaufe—  why  paint  her  like  a  Shilling: 
Or  SOL's  bright  orb—  be  fore,  to  make  him  glow,, 
Precifcly  like  a  Guinea,  or  a  To*. 
£2 

*  A  Portugal  coin,  vulgarly  called  a  Johr.r.nfj3, 


L         44        J. 

In  fhort,  to  get  your  pi&ures  prais'd  and  fold. 
Convert,  like  Midas,  ev'ry  thing  to  Gold. 

I  fee,  to  excellence  you'll  come  at  la  ft — 
Your  Clouds  are  made  of  very  brilliant  fluff; 

The  biues  on  China  Mugs  are  now  iurpafs'd, 
Your  Sun-fets  yield  not  to  Brick-walls,  nor  Duff, 
In  Stumps  of  Trees,  your  art  fo  finely  thrives, 
They  really  look  like  Golden-hafted  Knives  ! 
Go  on,  my  Lads—Leave  Nature's  di final  hue, 
And  §he?  e're  long  will  come  and  copy  You.. 


O    D    E        IX, 

The  fublitne  PETER  concluded  in  a  Sweat* 


T, 


HUS  have  I  fmiflVd,  for  this  time, 

My  Odes,  a  little  wild  and  rambling 

May  people  bite,  like.  Gudgeons,  at  my  rhime  I 

I  long  to  fee  them  fcrambling 

Then  very  foon  I'll  give  'em  more  (God  willing) 
But  this  is  full  fiifficient  for  a  Shilling, 
For  fuch  a. trifle*  facb  a  heap  ! 
Indeed,  I  fell  my  Goods  too  cheap. 

Finijtfd  !  a  difappointed  Artift'  cries, 

With  open  mouth,  and  draining  eyes  ; 
Gaping  for  praife,  like  a  young  Crow  for  meat— 

"  Lord!  why,,  you  have  not  mention'd  meT 

Mention'd  Thee  ? 
Thy  impudence  hath  put  me  in  a  foeat 

What  rage  for  Fame  attends  both  Great  and  Small! 

Better  be  rf-~#V,  than  mention'd  not  at  all! 


[        45        3 


LYRIC    ODES, 

FQR    THE    YEAR    M.DCC.VC 


Alcert 
Quid  Met  ?--—  - 


0    D    E        L 

The  divine  PETER  giveth  an  account  of  a  conference  he 
held  laft  year,  with  SATIRE,  who  advifed  him  to  at 
tack  fome  of  the  R,  A.'s  to  tear  Mr.  WEST'S  worksite 
pieces,  abufe  Mr.  GAINSBOROUGH,  fall  foul  of  -Mrs* 
Cos  WAY'S.  Samp  f  on,  and  give  a  gentle  ftroke  on  tbe 
back  of  Mr.  RiGAUD.---7$£  Poet's  gentle  anfwer  to 
Satire.—  The  Ode  of  Remonftrance,  that  PETER  re 
ceived  on  accotint  of  bis  LYRICS  —  Satire**  Reply  ~- 
PETER'S  refolution* 


0  T,  not  this  year,  the  lyric  Poet  lings, — 
*c  The  great  R.  Aj's  have  wilh'd  my  fong  to  ceafe ; 
"  I  will  not  pluck  a  feather  from  your  wings, — 
"  So,  Sons  of  Canvafs!  take  your  naps  in  pe^ce." 

Such  was  my  lad  year's  gracious  fpeeeh, 

Sweet  as  the  King's  to  Commons  and  to  Peers, 

Always  with  fenfe  and  tropes,  as  plumb-cake,  ri 
A  lufcious  banquet  for  his  people's  ears  I 

"  Not  write!"  cryM  Satire,  red  as  fire  -.vi'th 
£  This  inflnnt  glorious  war  with  Duincis 
6  Take,  take  my  fupple-jack, 
"  Play  St.  Bartholomew 'with  many  a  br.: 


C      46      ] 

ic  Flay  half  the  Academic  imps  alive! 

"  Smoke,  fmoke  the  drones  of  that  ftupendous  hive* 

<*  Begin  with  George's  idol,  Weft ; 

"  And  then  proceed  in  order  with  the  reft; 
**  This  moment  knock  me  down  his  Mafter  Mofcb1*, 
14  On  Sinai's  Mountain,  where  his  nofe  is 

"  Cock'd  up  fo  pertly,  plump  againft  the  Lord, 

"  Upon  my  word, 

"  With  all  that  eafe  to  Him  who  rules  above, 
v<  As  if  that  Heav'n  and  he  were  hand  and  gloved 

*'•  Indeed,"   quoth  I,  "  the  piece  hath  points  of  merit, 
Though  not  poflelVd  throughout  of  equal  fpirit." 

"  What  i"  anfwer'd  Satire,  "  not  knock  Mofes  down  ? 
"  O  ftnpid  Peter,  what  the  devil  mean  ye? 

"  He  looks  a  poor  pert  barber  of  the  town, 

"  With  paper  figri- board  out—4  Shave  for  a  Penny .* 

"  Obfcrve  the  piteous  Israelite  once  more — - 
"  Wears  he  the  countenance  that  fhould  adore  $ 

"  No!  'tis  a  Ton  of  lather,--a  rank  prig; 
44  Who,  'ftead  of  fetching  the  moft  facred  Law, 
4<  With  fober  LOOKS,  a-nd  reverential  AWE, 

"  Seems  penly  tripping  up,  to  fetch  a  WIG. 

"  With  all  her  thunder,  bid  the  Mufe 

"  Fall  furious  on  the  groupe  of  Tews, 
"  Whofe  fliouldcrs  are  adorn'd  wiw'Cbrtftfan 

kt  For,  by  each  phiz,  (I  fpeak  without  a  gibej 

"  There's  not  an  Ifraelite  in  all  the  tribe 

<4  Not  that  they  are  encumber'd  by  the  GRACES. 

"  Strike  off  the  head  of  Jeremiah  §, 
"  And  break  the  bones  of  old  Ifaiah  f; 


Mofes  receiving  the  Law  on  Mount  Si'nai. 

A  pifture  by  Mr.  Weft,  t  Another  Figure 


C       47        ] 

^  Down  with  the  duck-wing' d  Angels*,  that  abreaft 
"  Stretch  from  n  thing.,  call'd  ckud^  and  by  their 

"  looks, 
"  Wear  more  the  vifage  of  young  rooks, 

«  Cawing  for  victuals,  from  their  nefr. 

*c  Deal  Gainsb?rough  a  lalh,  for  pride  fo  ftiff, 
"  Who  robs  us  of  fuch  pleafure.  for  a  miff; 
"  Whofc  pencil,  when  he  chufes,  can  be  chafte, 
<;  Give  Nature's  form,  and  pleafe  the  eye  of  TASTE, 

*<  Of  cuts  on  Sampfon  ft  don't  be  fparing, 
"  Between  two  garden-rollers  daring, 

*c  Shewn  by  the  lovely  Dalilah  foul  play! 
u  To  atoms  tear  that  f  Frenchman's  tram^ 
"  Then  bountifully  deal  the  lafh, 

"  On  fuch  as  dafd  to  dub  him  an  R-.  A," 

Thus  Satire  to  the  gentle  Poet  cry'd— - 

Arid  thus,  with  lamb-like-  fweetnefs,  I  reply'd : 

"  Dear  Satire  !  pray  confult  my  life  and  eafe; 
<c  \Vere  I  to  write  whatever  you  defire, 
"  The  fat  would  all  be  fairly  in  the  fire, 

44  R,  A.'s  furround  me,  like  a  fwarm  of  bees, 
*  Or  like  a  flock  of  frnall  birds  round  a  fowl 
u  Of  folewn  fpeculation,  call'd  an  OWL." 

Quoth  I,  "  O  Satire,  Fm  a  fimple  youth, 

Mufl  make  my  fortune,  therefore  not  fpeak  'truth,. 

Altho'  as  (lerling  as  the  holy  bible: — 

Truth  makes  it  (Mansfield  lays)  the  more  a  libel: 

I  (hall  not  flcep  in  peace  within  my  hutch  ; 

Like  Doftor  Johnfon  §?  I  have  wrote  TOO  MUCH." 

*  In  the  Apotheofis,  a  Picture  by  Weft, 
ft  A  Picture  by  Mrs.Cofvvay.  t  RigaucU 

§  The  ftory  goes  that  Sam,  before  his  -political  conve  rfion,  re« 
plied  to  bis  preR'nt  Ma  efty,  in  the  Library  at  Buckingham 
Houfe,  0:1  beiiig  asked  by  the  Monarch,  *  Why  he  did  not 
write  more  ?'— '  Pleafe  your  Majefty  I  have  written  too  much? 
So  candid  a  ; declaration,  of  which  the  fturdy  Moralift  did  ncc 
believe  one  fyllabie,  procured  him  a  peuiion,  aud  a 


E     48      3 

When  Mount  Vefuvius  *  pour'd  his  . 

And  frighten'd  all  the  Naples  dames, 
What  did  the  Ladies  of  the  city^do? 
Why,  order' d  a  fat  Cardinal,  to  go 

With  good  St.  Januarius'  head, 
And  -Ihake  it  at  the  MOUNTAIN  'midft  his  riot, 
To  try  to  keep  the  Bully  quiet  : 

Ihe.Parfon  went,  and  (hook  the  jowl,  and  fped; 
Snug  was  the  word— the  flames  at  once  kept  houfe, 
The  belfwing  Mountain  was  a-s  mute's  a  moufcv 

Thus,  fhculd  Lord  Mansfield  from  his  bench  agree 
To  fhake  his  lion-man  e-like  wig  at  me? 

And  bid  his  grim-look' d  Myrmidons  afTail ; — 
With  heads  Medufan,  and  with  hearts  of  bone  \ 
Who,  if  they  did  not  turn  me  into  ft  one , 

Might  turn  my  liinbs,  fo  gentle,  into  jail*- 

Read,  read  this  Ode,  juft  come  to  hand, 

Giving  the  Mufe  to  under-ftand, 

That  cruelty  and  fcnndal  fwell  her  fong; 

And  that  'twere  better  far,  fhe  held  her  taague. 


A 


To    P  E  T  E  R    P  I  N  D  A  R,    ESQ. 


Thoufaiid  frogs,  upon  a  fummer's  day, 
Were  fporting.  'midft  the  funny  ray, 
In  a  large  pooh  re  Hefting  ev'ry  lace; — 

They  fhow'd  their  gold-lac'd  clothes,  with  pride -5 

In  harmiefs  fallies,  frequent  vy'd, 
And  gamboi^  through  the  water,  with  a  grace, 

It  happen'd  tlitit  a  band  of  boys"9 
Obfervant  of  their  harmiefs  joys, 
Thoughtlefs  refolv'd  to  fpoil  their  happy  fport; 
One  frenzy  feiz'd  both  GREAT  and  SMALL: 
On  the  poor  frogs  the  rogues  began  to  fall, 
Meaning  to  fplajb  them,  not  to  co  them  hurt* 

*  See  Sir  WiIiiatncHamilton''s  account. 


C        49         ] 

As  Milton  quaintly  fmgs,  *  the  Hones  'gan  pour,*' 
Indeed  an  Otaheite  Ihow'r! 

The  confequence  was  dreadful^  let  me  tell  ye ;. 
ONE'S  eye  was  beat  out  of  his  head ; — 
This  Ihnp'd  away,  that  lay  for  dead, — 

Here  mourn'd  a  broken  back,  and  there  a  belly. 

Among  the  fmitten,  it  was  found, 

Their  beauteous  queen  received  a  wound; 

The  blow  gave  ev'ry  heart  a  figh, 

And  drew  a  tear  from  ev'ry  eye  :— 
At  length  King  CROAK  got  up,  and  thus  begun— 
"  My  iads,  you  think  this  very  pretty  FUN!. 

"  Your  pebbles  round  us  fly  as  thick  as  hops, — 
"  Have  warmly  complimented  all  our  chops  ;— 
To -you,.  Iguefs,  that  the  fe  are  pleafant  flones ! 
"  And  fo  they  might  be  to  us  Frogs, 
"  You  damn'd,  young,  good-for-nothing  dogs,  - 
*c  But  that  they  are  fo  hard—  they  break  our  bones* 

PETER!  thou  mark'fl  the  meaning  of  this  fable?- 
So  put  thy  Pegafus  into  the  liable; 
Nor,.,  wanton  thus  with  cruel  pride, 
Mad,  Jehu-like,  o'er  harmlefs  people  ride. 

To  drop  the  metaphor — the  Fair*, 

Whofe  works  thy  Mufe  forbore  to  fpare , 
Is  bleft  with  talents  jEwv^-muft  approve; 

And  didfl  thou  knov/  her  heart,  thou'dfl  fay-— 

"  PERDITION  catch  the  IDLE  LAY  f  * 
Then  ftrike  thy  Lyre  to  INNOCENCE  and  LOVE* 

"  Poh!  poh!"  cry'd  Satire,  with  a  fmile, 

"  Where  is  the  glorious  freedom  of  our  Ifle,  - 

"  If  not  permitted  to  call  names?" 
Methought  the  argument  had  weight — 

"  Satire,"  quoth  I,  "  you're  very  right"*-- 
So  once  more  forth  volcanic  Peter  flames! 

*  Mrs  *  Cofway* 


[        56        j 


ODE         II. 

Tie  Poet  corrcfttth  the  Mufis  warmth,  wbe  beginrictb 
with  little  lefs  than  calling  name^s  —  Hinteth  at  fome 
academic  Gitwts-^And  conttudetb  with  a  pair  of  apt 

f:nd  elegant  Similies* 

".  I  AG-R  ACS  and  Bobtails  of  the  facred  brufti  !" 
For  heaven's  fake,  Mufe,  be  prudent  :—  Huih  !  hufh! 
hufaf 

The  Ode  with  too  much  violence  begins  1 
The  great  R.-A.'s,  fo  jealous  of  their  fame, 
Will  all  declare,  of  them  we  make  a  game: 

And  then—  the  Lord  have  mercy  on  our  skins! 

Think,  what  a  formidable  Phalanx,  Mufe, 
Strengthened  by  MeiTieurs  Garvay  and  Rigaud,  and  Co^ 
How  dangrons  fuch  a  body  to  abufe! 

Then  there's  among  the  Academic  crew, 

A  MAN*,  that  made  the  prefident  look  blue; 

I\randiih'd  his  weapon  with  a  whirlwind's  forces, 

Tore  by  the  roots  his  ilouriming  difcourfes  ; 

And  fwore,  his  own  fweet  Irifh  howl  could  pour  • 

A  half  a  dozen  fueh,  in  half  an  houre 

Be  prudent,  Miife  !—  once  more  I  pray- 
In  vain  I  preach!  th'  advice  is  thrown  away: 
Ev'n  now.  you  turn  your  npfe  up  with  a  fneer, 
And  cry—  '"Lord!  Reynolds  hath  no  caufe  to  fear# 
When  Barry  dares  the  Prefident  to  fly  on: 

'Tis  like  a  Moufe,  that,  wbrk'd  into  a  rage, 

Daring  mod  dreadful  war  to  wage, 
Nibbles  the  tail  of  the  Nemaxm  Lion. 

Or  like  a  Loufe,  of  mettl^-Ailf, 
Nitrs'd  in  fome  Giant's  skull— 

*  Zvlr,  Barry, 


I          51         3 

Becaufe  Goliah  fcratch'd  him  as  he  fed, 
Employs  with  vehemence  his  angry  claws, 
And  gaping,  grinning,  formidable  ja 

To  carry  of  the  GIANT'S  HEAD! 


ODE        III. 

The  Poet  addreffeth  Sir  WILLIAM  CHAMBERS,  a  Gentle 
man  of  con fe queues  in  the  Election  of  R.  ASs—He 
accufeth  the  Knight  cf  a  partial  and  ridiculous  dif- 
tribution  of  the  Academic  Honours — Threatenethhim 
with  Rhime—Advifeth  a  reformation, 


Or 


NE  minute,  gentle  Irony,  retire- 
Behold  !  Fin  graver  than  a  muftard  pot*} 
The  Mufe,  with  bile,  as  hot  as  fire, 

Could  call  fool9 puppy,  blockhead,  and  what  not? 
As  brother  Horace  has  it— tumet  jecur: 
Nor,  in  her  angry  progrefs,  will  I  check  her, 

Fm  told,  that  Satan  had  been  long  at  work, 

To  bring  th'  Academy  into  difgrace ; 
Oh!  may  that  Member's  b-ck-de  feel  his  forjk> 
Who  dares  to  violate  the  facred  place! 
Who  dares  the  devil  join 
In  fo  nefarious  a  defign  ? 
Yet,  lo !  what  dolts  the  honors  claim ! 
I  leave  their  WORKS  to  tell  their  name. 

Th' Academy  is  like  a  micrpfcope — 

For  by  the  magnifying  pow'r,  are  feen 
Objefls,  that  for  attention  ne'er  could  hope  ; 
'No  more,  alas !  than  if  they  ne'er  had  been, 

So  rare  a  building,  and  fo  grac'd 
With  monuments  of  ancient  tafte, 


Statues  ancTBufts,  Relievos  and  Intaglios; 

For  fitch  poor  things  to1  watch  the  treafure? 

Is  laughable  beyond  £ii  meafure-— 
"Tis  juft  like  Eunuchs,  put  to  guard  Seraglios. 

Think  not,  Sir  William,  I'm  in  jeft— 

By  Heav'n !  I  will  not  let  thee  reft : 
Yet  thou  may'ft  blufter  like  bull-beef  fo  big; 

And  of  thy  own  importance  full, 

Exclaim — "  Great  cry,  and  little  wool!" 
As  Satan  holla'd,  when  he  fhav'd  the  Pigo 

Yes,  thou  flialt  feel  my  tomahawk  of  fatire, 
And  find,  that  fcalging  is  a  ferious  matter: 
Shock' d  at  th'abule,  how  rage  inflames  my  veins; 

Who  can  help  fivearing,  when"fuch  wights  he  fees 
Crept  to  th'  Academy  by  ways  and  means 

Like  mites  and  skippers  in  a  Chelhire  cheefe  ** 

What  beings  will  the  next  year's  choice  difclofe? 

The  Academic  lift  to* grace? 
Some  skeletons  of  art.,  I  do  fuppofe, 

That  ought  to  blufh  to  ihew  their  face. 

Sir  William!  tremble  at  the  Mufe's  tongue ; 
ParnafTus  boafts  a  formidable  throng! 
All  people  recollect  poor  Marfyas'  fate, 

Save  fuch  as  are  dead-drunk,  or  f aft  afleep : 
Apollo  ty'd  the  culprit  to  a  gate, 

And  fiay'd  him,  as  a  butcher  flays  a  Iheep : 
And  why?  Lord!  not  as  hiftory  rehearfes, 
Becaufe  he  fcorn'd  his  piping — but  his  verfes  : 
In  vain,  like  a  poor  pilfry'd  punk,  he  bawl'd, 
And  kick'd  and  writh'd,  and  faid  his  pray'rs,  and  fprawl'd ; 
Twas  all  in  vain— the  God  purfu'd  his  fport, 
And  pull'd  his  hide  off—  as  you'd  pull  your^/r// 
Then  bid  not  rage  the  Mufe's  foul  inflame, 
Whofe  thund'ring  voice  damnation  makes,  or  fame. 


i       53       ] 

y ou'll  ask  me,  p'rhaps,  "  Good  Mafter  Peter,  pray 
"  What  right  have  you  to  fpeakf— -then  pertly  fmile 

FJ1  tell  you,  -Sir-IVjy  pocket  help'd  to  pay 
For  building  that  expenfive  pile; 

A  pile,  that  credit  to  the  nation  gains, 

And  does  fome  honor  to  your  worlliip's  brains, 

It  made  a  tax  on  candles  and  (hoe-leather, 

Of  monftrous  ufe  in  dirty  weather: 

It  made  a  tax  on* butcher's  (hops, 

So  fpread  its  iniluence  o'er  poetic  chops ; 

A  moft  alarming  tax  to  ev'ry  Poet, 

Whofe  poor,  lank,  greyhound  ribs  with  forrow  (how  iu 

Therefore,  Sir  Knight,  pray  mend  your  manners; 
And  don't  chufe  cobiers,  blackfniiths,  tinkers,  tanners: 
Some  people  love  the  convcrfe  of  low  folks, 
To  gain  broad  grins,  for  good-for-nothing  jokes ; 
Tho'  tbou,  'midft  dullnefs',  may' ft  be  pleasM  to  fofae% 
REYNOLDS  ihail  pe'er  fit  cheek-by-jowl  with  SWINE 


ODE        IV. 

payetb  his  rtfpsfts  to  Sir  WILLIAM  . 
CHAMBERS;  Complaincth  of  his  illiberaUty,  in  his 
choice  of  R.  A.'s  ,*  Advifeth  him  to  keep  company 
with  PRUDENCE,  -whom  he  defcribeth  mofl  naturally; 
fie  threateneth  the  Knight  $  And  conclttdeth  with  a 
beautiful  Simile. 

1    HE  Mufe  is  in  the  fidgets-can't  fit  ftill- 
She  muft  have  t'other  talk  with  yon,  Sir  Will. 
Since  her  laft  Ode,  with  forrow  hath  die  heard, 
You  want  not  men  with  heav'nly  genius  Weft, 
But  wilh  the  title  of  R.A.  conferr'd 
On  fuch  as  catph  the  bugs,  andfweepthefpidersbeft^ 
F 


V:-  VS  >\        [        54        ] 

Warn  of  the  larger  flatties,  bed,  the  faces, 
And  clean  the  dirty  linen  oi  the  GRACES: 
vScour  bed  the  skins  of  the  young  riftrble  brats; 
Trap  mice,  and  clear  th'  Academy  from  rats. 

You  look  for  men,  whofe  heads  are  rather  tulbijb, 

Or,  drum-like,  better  form'd  for  found  than  fenfe} 
^  Pleas'd  with  the  line  Arabian  to  difpenfe, 
You  want  the  big-botfd  drayborfe  for  your  rulbifi* 

Raife  not  theMufe's  anger,  I  defire; 

High-born,  die's  hotter  than  the  lightning's  fire. 

And  proud!  (believe  the  Poet's  word) 

Proud  as  the  lady  of  a  new-made  Lord; 

Proud,  as  in  all  her  gorgeous  trappings  dred, 

Fat  Lady  Mayorefs  at  a  City  fead; 

Whofe  fpoufe  makes  wigs,  or  fome  fiich  glorious  thing, 

Shoes,  gloves,  hats,  nightcaps,  breeches,  for  the  Ring ! 

PRUDENCE,  Sir  William,  is  a  jewel; 

Is  clothes,  and  meat,  and  drink,  and  fuel ! 

PRUDENCE!  for  man  the  very  bed  of  wives, 

Whom  BARDS  have  feldom  met  with  in  their  Jives; 

Which,  certe.Sj  doth  account  for,  in  fome  meafure, 

Their  grievous  want  of  wordly  treafure, 

On  which  the  greateft  blockheads  make  their  brags ; 
And  dioweth,  why  we  fee,  indead  of  lace, 
About  the  Poet's  back,  with  little  grace, 

Thofe  flutt'ring,  French-tike  fo\Y \v&s™ -called  RAGS. 


PRUDENCE  !  a  fweet,  obliging,  curtfying  Jafs, 
Fit  through  this  hypocritic  world  to  pa  ft! 
Who  kept  at  fird  a  little  peddling  fnop, 
Swept  her  own  room,  twirl'd  her  own  mop, 
Waih'd  her  own  fmocks,  caught  her  own  fleas, 
And  rofe  to  fame  and  fortune  by  degrees ; 
Who,  when  ihe  enter' d  other  people's  houfes, 
Till  fpoke  to,  was  as  filent  as  a  moufe  is ; 

And  of  opinions,  though  poffefs'd  a  dore, 
She  left  them,  with  her  pattens— at  the  door* 


55       J 

Sir  William,  you're  a  bound!  and  hunting 
Undoubtedly  the  woman  is  fair  game: 
But,  Nimrod,  mind ;  my  Mufe  is  WHIPPER-IN  ! 
So  that,  if  ever  you  difgrace, 
By  turning  cur,  your  noble  race, 
The  Lord  have  mercy  on  your  curjbip"^  skin! 


^  A  A  A  A  A  A  A  A  A^> 


ODE        V. 

The  Poet"  openetb  %is  account  of  the  Exhibit  ers  at  the 
Academy;  Praffetb  REYNOLDS,-  Half  damneth  Mr. 
WEST  ,•  Completely  damneth  Mr.  WRIGHT,  of  Derby  ; 
vientioneth  Mr,  FUSCLI  ;  Co  mp  limenteth  Mr.  OPIE. 


USE,  fing  the  wonders  of  the  prefcnt  year: 
Declare  what  works  of  fieri  ing  worth  appear. 
REYNOLDS  his  heads  divJne,  as  ufual,  gives, 
Where  Guidons,  Reubens  ,  Titian's  genius  lives! 
Works!  I'm  afraid,  like  beauty  of  rare  quality, 
Born  foon  to  fade!  too  fubjetf:  to  mortality! 

WEST  mo  ft  judicioufly  my  counfel  takes, 
Paints  by  the  acre  ;  witnefs  Parfon  PETER.*  : 

For  garbs,  he  very  pretty  blankets  makes, 
Deferving  praifes  in  the  fweeteft  metre* 

The  fleili  of  Peter's  audience  is  not  good; 
Too  much  like  ivory,  and  Hone,  and  wood; 
Nor  of  the  figures,  dare  I  praife  th'  expreffion, 
With  fome  folks  thought  a  trifle  of  tranfgrejfioK. 

WEST,  your  Lfffl  Supper  is  a  hungry  piece  ; 
Your  Tyburn  Saiuts  will  nor  your  fame  increafe: 

F2 

*  Peter  preaching—  a  piece  of  Mr.  Weft's. 


[        56       ] 

With  leeks  fo  thieviih,  with  fuch  skins  of  copper! 
Were  they  for  fale,  r>s  HeavVs  my  judge, 
To  give  five  farthings  for  them  I  fliould  grudge^ 

Nay,  ev'n  my  old  tobacco-Hopper. 

Candor  mild  own,  that  frequently  thy  paints 

Have  play'd  the  devil  with  the  Saints: 

For  me!  I  fancy  them  like  doves  and  tbroflles! 

But  tbou,  if  we  believe  tby  art, 

Enough  to  make  £/5,-pious  Chriftians,  ftart^ 
Haft  very  fcurvy  notions  of  Apoftles* 

What  of  thy  *  lafidfcape  (hail  I  fay, 

Holding;  the  old  white  fow,  and  fucking  litter? 
Curs' d  be  the  moment,  curs' d  the  day, 

Thou  gav'ft  the  mufe  fuch  rer.fon  to  be  bitter!  ' 
But,  Mufe,  befoft,  and  gent/y,  gently  figh; 
"More  damned  fluff  was  never  feen  by  eye." 

Yet  mind!  thy  Landfcape  equals  Derby  WRIGHT'S  f, 
Whofe  canvafs  gives  us  voxy-dlfmal  nights:  - 
O'er  woollen  hiils,  where  gold  and  plver  moons, 
Now  nicunt  like  Sixpence?)  andiiow  Balloons ; 
Where  curling  wild,  in  different  directions, 
IMice  vermicelli  reprefents  reflections! 
In  fnort,  where  ev'ry  thing  we  fee  appear, 
Seems  to  exclaim-"  What°bufinefs  have  we  here/" 

FUSHLI  refumes  the  brufh  to  pleafe  the  FEW: 

Ke  deems  the •  MILLION— fenfeiefs,  arrant  crew-- 

For  ridicule,  juft  fit  to  make  a  feaft— 

A  Caliban— a  great  unjudging  bend, 

Whofe  crab-like  foul  to  no  great  heights  can  climb,, 

And  therefore  cannot  feel  the  true  SUBLIME. 

OPIE  this  year  (fo  fay  his  forms  and  faces) 

Hath  deign'd  to  pick  acquaintance  with  the  GRACES* 


'*  A  rr.r.ft  puhW?  performance  indeed.     It  may  be  fairly  called 
:  Dctag6  01"  fe  art-,  t  A  Painter  of  Mcou-li<rhts. 


C         57        ] 

But  where  nre  all  his  old  heads  flown? 
Fray,  Mailer OPIE,  leave  your  nicks, 
And  let  our  eyes  fometimes  on  piftures  fix, 

That  REMBRANDT  had  been  proud  to  own. 


ODE       VI. 

The  Poet  addrejjeth  Majefly ;  Pleadeth  the  caufe  of  poor ^ 
Jlarving  Poetry ;  He  acknowledgeth^  in  a  former  Ode^ 
the  kindneffes  of  Fame^  yet  throweth  out  a  Hint  to  his 
Maje  fly )' that  his  finances  may  be  improved;  He  re- 
latetb  a  marvellous  flory  of  a  Jefuit ;  Recommend* 
eth  fomcthing  ftmilar,,  to  his  Sovereign. 


.  _LN'T  pleafe  your  Majefly,  I'm  overjoy'd 
To  find  your  family  fo  fond  of  Painting; 

I  wifli  her  filler  POETRY  employ'd;- 
Poor,  dear,  neglected  'girl!  with  hunger  fainting. 

Your  Royal  Grand  fire,  (truft  me,  fin  no  fibber) 

Was  vaftly  fond  of  COLLEY  CIB&ER. 

For  fubjecls,how  his  Majefty  would  bunt  ! 

And  if  a  battle  gracM  the  Rhine,  or  Wefer, 
He'd  cry--"  Mine  Poet  fal  inak  Ode  upon't  !  " 

Then  forth  there  came  a  flaming  Ode  to 


Dread  Sire,  pray  recoiled  a  bit 

Some  glorious  action  of  your  life  ; 
And  then  your  humble  Poet's  wit, 

Sharp  as  a  razor,  or  a  new-ground  knife, 
Shall  mount  you  on  her  glorious  Balloon  Odes, 
Like  Rome's  great  CJESAR,  to  th'  immortal  GODS*, 


*  Divifumlmperium,  cum  Jove,  Ctffarhab.et.        VIKG. 


A  Naples' lefiiit,  HISTORY  declares, 

On  flips  of  paper  fcribbled  pray'rs, 
Which  fhovv'd  of  wifdom  great  profundity; 

Then  fold  them  to  the  country  folks, 
To  give  their  turkies,  hens  and  ducks, 

To  bring  increafe  of  fowl-fecundity  s 

It  nnfwerM-On  their  turkies,  ducks  and  hens, 
The  country  people  all  were  full  of  brags  $ 

Whofe  little  bums,  in  barns,  and  mows,  and  fens? 
Squat  down,  and  laid  like  conjuration-bags. 

I  wiih,  this  fage  experiment  were  try'd 
Upon  the  Mufe,  my  gentle  bride; 
And  flips  of  paper  giv'n  her,  with  this  prayer* 
"  Pay  to  the  bearer  fifty  pounds  at  fight." 
Her  fweet  prolific  pow'rs  'twould  fo  delight^ 
She'd  breed,  like  a  tame  rabbit^  or  a  hare! 


I 


O    D    E       VIIL 

wonderful  Reliques  in  France,  with 
the  devotion  paid  them— The  fen/ibte  application  to 
Painters  and  Painting^  by  way  of  Simile. 


..N  F:*nr;C2,  feme  years  ago-fonie  tv/enty- three, 

At  a  fam'd  Church,  where  hundreds  daily  jof!ler 
I  wifely  paid  a  priefl  fix  fous  to  fee 
The  "thumb  of  Thomas  the  Apoflle. 

Giping  upon  Tom's  thumb,  with  me  in  \vonder, 
T:ie  rubblj  rais'd  its  eyes-like  ducks  in  thunder; 
6-:craife  in  virtues  ic  was  vaftly  rich, 
Hid  cur'd  poffefs'cl  of  devils,  and  th3  itch; 
Work'd  various  wonders  on  a  fcabby  ptitej.. 
Maie  little  Bucking  children  ftraigbt. 


C        59        ] 

Though  crook'd  like  rams'  horns  by"  the  rickets ; 

Tvlade  people  lee,  though  blind  as-moles,* 

And  made  your  fad,  hyfterie  fouls, 
As  gay  as  graflioppers  and  crickets ; 
Brought  nofes  back  again  to  faces. 
Long  itol'n  by  Mentis  and  her  Graces ; 
And  eyes  to  till  their  parent  fockets, 
Of  which  fad  love  had  pick'd  their  pockets : 

And  had  the  Pried  -permitted*  with  their  kiiTes, 

The  mob  had  fmack'd  the  holy  thumb  to  pieces. 

Though,  Reader,  'twas  not  the  Apo file's  thumb — 
But  mum  !— 

It  play'd  as  well  of  miracles  the  trick. 

Although  a  painted  piece  QL  flick! 

For  fix  fous  more,  behold !  to  view,  was  bolted 

A  feather  of  the  Angel  Gabriel's  wing  I 
Whether  'twas  pluck' d  by  force,  or  calmly  molted, 

No  holy  legends  tell,  nor  Poets  fing. 
But  was  it  GabrieFs  feather,  heav'nly  Mufes  ? 
It  was  mt  Gabriel's  feather,  but  a  Gooffs  I 
Hut  fray!  from  truth  we  would  not  wiih  to -wander, 
i'or,  poffibly,  the  owner  was  a  Gander. 

Painters  !  you  take  me  right:  The  mufe  fuppofes 
You  make  your  coup-de  maitre  dailies, 

Chriften  them  eyes,  and  cheeks,  and  lips,  and  nofes> 
Beards,  chins,  and  whiskers,  and  eye-lames  \ 

As  like,  p'rhaps,  as  a  horfe  is  like  a  plumb, 

Or  forefaid  (lick,  St.  TOM  th'  Apoftle's  thumb, 

With  purer  eyes  the  Britifh  vulgar  fees; 

We  are  no  Cra-vthuinpcrs^  no  Devotees ; 
ihat  whene'er  your  figures  are  mere  wood^ 
•  eyes  will  never  think  'cm  flejb  and  blaod* 


ODE        IX. 

The  generous  PETER  refcueth  the  immortal  RAPHAEL 
from  the  obloquy  of  MICHAEL  ANGELO  ;  The  pott  wo- 
raHzeth  ;  Telleth  a  fton,  not  to  the  credit  of  MICHA 
EL  ANGELO,  and  nobly  defcndeth  RAPHAEL'S  name  a- 
gain  ft  bis  invidious  attack^  Con  elude  tb  with  a-vioft 
J#ge  observation* 


ii 


.  f)W  difficult  in  Artifts  to  allow 
To  brother  bruilnnen  ev'n  a  grain  of  merit  I 
Wiiliing  to  tear  the  laurels  from  their  brow* 
They  (hew  a  fniv'ling,  diabolic  fpirit. 

So  'tis!  however  rnoralifts  may  chatter; 
What's  worfe  dill— nature-  will  be  always  nature, 
We  can't  brew  Burgundy  from  four  (mall  beer. 
Nor  make  a  fiiken  purfe  of  a  low's  ear. 

Sweet  is  the  voice  of  Pratfe !  from  eve  to  morn, 

From  blufliing  morn  to  darkling  eve  again, 
My  Mufe  the  brows  of  Merit  could  adorn, 

And,  lark-like,  fwell  the  Panegyric  (train. 
PRAISE,  like  the  balm,  which  ev'ning's  dewy  fhir 

Sheds  on  the  drooping  herb  and  fainting  flow'r; 
Lifts  modeil,  pining  Merit  from  defpair^ 

And  gives  her  clouded  eye  a  golden  hour. 

P«x  take  me,  if  I  ever  read  the  (lory 
Of  Michael  Angelo,  without  much  (wearing  5 

'Tis  fuch  a  (lice  cut  off  from  Michael"1*  glory ^ 
He  furely  had  been  brandying  it,  or  beering : 

That  is,  in  plainer  Engiiih,  he  was  drunk, 

And  candor  from  the  man  with  horror  Ihrunk. 


C       6*        ] 

Raphael  did  honor  to  the  Roman  fchcol, 

Yet  Angelo  vouchfaf  d  to  call  him  fool\ 

When  working  in  the  Vatican,  would  (lure, 

Throw  down  his  brnlh,  and  (lamp  and  fwear, 

If  e'er  a  porter  let  him  in-he'd  flone  him, 

And  if  he  Raphael  caught—  mod  furely  bone  him* 

Ke  fvvore  the  world  -was  a  rank  afs, 
To  pay  a  compliment  to  Raphael's,^///"; 
For  that  he  knew  the  fellow  well  enough, 

And  that  his  paltry  metal  would  not  f  afs. 

Such  was  the  language  of  this  falfe  Italian  : 
One  time  he  chriden'd  Raphael  a  Pygmalion  ; 
-    Swore  that  his  madams  were  composed  of  flone  5 
Swore,  his  exprefHons  were  like  owls,  fo  tame, 
His  drawings,  Kke  the  lamed  cripple,  lame; 
That  as  for  competition,  he  had  none* 

Young  Artids!  thefe  afFertions  I  deny;' 
'Twas  vile  ill  mnners  —  not  to  fay  a  lie  : 
RAPHAEL  did  real  excellence  inherit, 

And  if  you  ever  chance  to  paint  as  well* 

I,  bond  fide,  do  foretel, 
You'll  certainly  be  men  of  merit. 

ODE        X, 

the  gojjlping  PETER  telteth  a  ftrange  Sfory,  and  true, 
though  drange  ;  Seemetb  to  entertain  ran  very  eleva 
ted  opinion  of  the  wifdom  of  Kings  ;  Bivteth  at  the 
Ktrrow  cfcape  of  SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS,*  Mr.  RAM- 
*?•*•?$  Ricbcs;  A  Recommendation  of  Flatten^  as  # 
Secific  in 


T 

I'M  told,  and  I  believe  the  (lory, 

That  a  fairf  d  Queen  of  Northern  brutes,, 
A  Gentlewoman  of  prodigious  glory, 
Whom  t'i'ry  fort  of  epithet  wtf 


Whole  husband  dcar^  juft  happening  to  provoke  her, 
Was  fiiov'd  tollcav'n  upon  a  red-hot  poker  !'. 
Sent  to  a  certain  King,  not  King  of  France  ;^ 
Defirin?,  \}f' Sir  jfofitufs  hand,  his  Pbiz— 

What  did  the  Royal  Quiz? 
Why,  damn  a  genteelly ,  fat  to  Mr.  Dance  *! 

Then  fern  it  to  the  Northern  Queen — 
As  iwcet  :i  bit  of  woed,  as  e'er  was  feen! 
And  therefore  molt  unlike  \hs  Princely  Head.— 
He  might  as  well  have  Cent  a  Pig  of  Lead. 

Down  ev'ry  throat,  the  piece  was  craminM  ' 
As  done  by  Reynold^  and  deferv'dly  damn'd ; 

For  as  to  Mailer  Dance's  art, 

It  ne'er  was  worth  a  fingle ! 

Reader,  !  blvjb !  am  delicate  this  time! . 
So  let  thy  impudence  fupply  the  Kbime0 . 

Thank  God !  that  Kings  cannot  our  tafte  controul, 
And  make  each  fubjeft's  poor,  fubmiflivefoul 
Admire  the  Tafte ,  \^^  Judgment  oft  cries  " fie  F  on  2 
Had  things  been  fo,  poor  Reynolds  we  had  feen, 
Painting  a  Barbels  Pole—mAle-Hoiife  Queen ^ 
The  Cat  and  Gridir^n^  or  the  old  Red  Lion! 

At  f  Plympton,  p'rhaps,  for  feme  grave  D-o<ftor  Slopr ~ 

Painting  the  pots  and  bottles  of  the  fhop ; 

Or  in  the  draw  a ,  to  get  meat  to  munch , 

His  brufh  divine  had  pHdur'd  fcenes  for  Punch  ! 

Whilft  Weft  was  whelping  'midfl  his  paints, 

Mofes  and  Aaron,  and  all  forts  of  Saints!  ; 

Adams  and  Eves,  and  Snakes  and  Apples, 

And  DeVls.3  for  benut-ifying  certain  Chapels: 

•*  The  true  rcafon  that  induced  His  Majcfly  to  fit  to  Mr. 
DANCF,  was  laudable  Royal  a?conomy.  Mr.  DANCE  charged  Fif- 
tv  Pounds  for  the  Picture— Sir  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS'  price  was 
fomewhat  more  than  a  Hundred-— a  very  great  difference  in 
the  market  price  of  Paint  and  Canvafs,  and,  let  me  fay,  that 
Jiifpilcd  the  preference  given  to  the  man  who  worked  cbeaptft* 
|  Sir  Jofliua's  native  fpotyJnDevonlhirc. 


C      fc      3 

But  Reynolds  is  no  favorite,  that's  the  matter 
He  hath  not  learnt  the  noble  art  —  to  flatter*. 


Thrice  happy  times^vhenMwtfrafofind  them  hard  things, 
To  teach  us  what  to  view  with  admiration  ; 

And  like  their  heads  on  halfpence  and  b:  afs  farthings, 
Make  their  Opinions  curr.ent  through  the  nation! 

I've  -heard  that  Ram  fay  f,  when  he  dy'd, 
Left  juft  nine  rooms  v/eli  IluiFd  with  Queens  and  Kings  ; 
From  whence.&\\  nations  might  have  been  fupply'd, 
That  lon£d  for  valuable  things. 
Viceroys,  AmbaiThdors,  and  Plenipos 
Bought  them,  to  join  their  raree  Ihows 

In  foreign  parts, 
And  fhew-  the  Progrefs  of  the  Britijb  Arts* 

Whether  they  purchas'd  by  the  pound  or  yard, 
I  cannot  tell,  becaufe  I  never  heard  ; 
,  But  this  I  know,  hisflwp  was  like  a  fair, 
And  dealt  moil  largely  in  <th£  Royal  ^are. 
See  what  it  is,  to  gain  a  Monarch's  fmile! 
And  haft  t^hou  mifs'd  it,  Reynolds,  all  this  while? 
How  ftupidj—  prithee,  feek  the  Courtier*s'Scbool> 
And  learn  to  manufacture  Oil  of  Fool. 

F/atfrfs  the  turnpike-road  to  Fortune"*1*  door  — 
Truth  is  a  narrow  lane.,  all  'full  of  quags, 
Leading  to  broken  heads,  abufe,  and  rags, 

And  workhoufes—  fad  refuge  for  the  poor  !  — 

Flatfrfs  a  MOUNTEBANK  fo  fpruce—  gets  riches; 

Truth,  a  plain  SIMON  PURE,  a  QUAKER  PREACHER, 

A  Moral-mender,  a  difgulling  Teacher, 
That  never  got  a  fixpence  by  \\^  Speeches} 


*  This  Ode  was  compofed  before  Sir  Jofhun  was  dubbed 
King's  Painter.  Poffibly  the  great  Artift  treamt  of  my  BEAU 
TIFUL  LYRIC,  and  purfued  its  advice. 

t  Late  Painter  to  his  Majefty. 


ODE        XL 

The  lofty  PETER  btginnetb  with  an  original  Simile ;  Dif- 
playetb  a  deep  knowledge  of  Homer,  and  modern 
Dutcbejjes}  Conclude tb  with  a  prophecy  about  bis  So* 
vereign. 


AINTERS,  who  figure  in  the  Exhibition, 
Are  pretty  nearly  in  the  fame  condition 

With  codes  on  Shrove-tide*  which  the  feafbn  gathers  j 
Flung  at  by  ev'ry  lubber,  ev'ry  brat, 
That  hath  the  fenfe  to  throw  a  bat, 

To  break  their  bones,  and  knock  about  their  feathers, 

This  little  difference,  however,  lies, 

Between  the  Painter  and  the  fowl,  I  find — 

The  artift  for  the  poft  of  danger  tries — 
The  Fowl  is  faften'd,  much  againft  his  mind; 

Who,  as  to  his  dread  fentence,  would  annul  it- 
Sue  out  his  habeas  corpus,  and  inftead 
Of  being  beat  with  bats  about  the  head, 

Make  handfome  love  to  a  fmart  pullet. 

And  yet,  the  Painter,  like  a  booby,  groans, 
Who  courts  the  very  bats  that  break  jhis  bones, 

But  who  from  fcandal  is  exempt? 

Who  doth  not  meet,  at  times,  contempt? 

Gf  eat  JOVE,  the  God  of  Gods,  in  figures  rich, 
Oft  call'd  his  bofom  Queen  a  faucy  bitcbi 
Ac'iilles  *  callM  great  Agamemnon  bog, 
An  impudent,  deceitful,  dirty  dog! 

*  Vid.  HOMERc  ; 


Behold!  our  lofcy  Dutchefles  pull  caps, 
!  give  each  other's  reputations  raps, 
As  f reefy  as  the  drabs  of  Dairy's  fchool  ; 
And  who,    pray,    knows   that  George,  our  gracious 

King, 

(Said  by  his  courtiers  to  know  ev'ry  thing) 
JLiy  not,  \>y  future  ti.ncs^  be  call'd  a  FOOL  I 


ODE 

The  Bard  ferifibh  reprove tb  the  young  Artllh  for  their 
propenj/ty  to  abitj'e  ;  Moft  wltiiiy  comparetb  thtm  to 
liorfc-lescbeSi  Game-cocks.,  and  Curs. 

rr\ 

JL    HE  mean,  the  rcinc'rons  jcaloufies,  that  i. 
In  ibme  fad  Artirts'  (bills,  I  do  defpiie  ; 
Inftead  of  nobly  'fir.Mtog  to  cxct'l, 
You  ft  rive  -to  pick  out  one  the  otliers'  eyes, 
To  be  a  POINTER,  was  Correggio's  glory- 
Ills  fpeech  thould  ilame  in  gold™45  So:u  Pitt-ire"  ' 


But  what,  if  truth  were  Ipoke,  would  be  jw/rfpeeehes? 
This — "  We're  a  fee  of  fame-fucking  harfo-teeciies, 
"  Without  a  blufb.)  the  pvorejl  fcandal  fpeaking — 
"  Like  cocks,  for  ever  at  each  other  beaking; 
46  As  if  the  globe  we  dwell  on,  were  fo  /,";/,'///, 
4t  There  really  was  \\vtrooiii  enough  for  ALL." 


Young  men! — 

I  do  prefume,  that  one  of  you,  in  'ten, 
Hath  kept  a  dog  or  two,  and  hath  remarked, 
That  when  you  have  been  comfortably  feeding, 
The  curs,  without  oni>  atom  of  court-brev 
With    wat'ry    jaws,     have    whiifd,    and    pnw\lj 
bark'd ; 

G 


[      M      3 

Sliow'd  anxiouiliefs  about  the  mutton  bone, 
And  '(lead  of  ymtr  mouth,    wiih'd  it  in  their  own\ 
And  if  you  gave  this  bone  to  one  or  t'other, 
Hetiv'ns!  what  a  fnarling,  quarrelling  and  pother \ 
This  oft,  perhaps,  had  touch' d  you  to  the  quick, 
And  made  you  teach  good  manners,  by  a  kickj 
And  if  the  tumult  was  beyond  all  bearing, 
A  little  bit  af.fiveet  emphatic  fwearing; 
An  eloquence  of  wonc'rous  nfe  in  wars, 
Among  Sea  Captains  and  the;brave  Jack,  Tars, 

Now  tell  me  lioneftly— pray  do-n't  you  find 
Somewhat  in  Chriftians,  juft  of  thcJame  kind, 

That  you  experienc'd  in  the  curs, 

Canting  your  anger  and  demurs? 
As,  for. example,  when  your  miflrefs,  Famc9 
Wiiliing  to  celebrate  a  worthy  name, 
Takes  up  her  trump  to  give  the  juft  applaufe, 

How   have   you,    puppy-like,    paw'd,    wiih'd,    and 
\vhin'd; 

And  growl'd,  and  curs'd,  and  fwore,  and  pin'd, 
And  long'd  to  tear  the  trumpet  from  her  jaws ! 
The  dogs  deferv'd  their  kicking  to  be  fure  \ 
But  you  !  O  fie,  boys !  go,  and  (In  no  morec 


O    D    E        XIII. 

Tic  compajjionate  PETER  lamentetb  the  Death  of  Mr, 
HONE,  an  R.  h.—Recommendetb  him  to  OBLIVION, 
the  great  Patron  of  a  number  of  GENIUSES. 

1   HERE's    one  R.  A.  more   dead!  ftiff  is  poof 
HONE  ! 

ytjis  works  be  with  him— under  the  fame  flone: 
I  think  the  facred  Art  will  not  bemoan  'em; 
But,  Mufe  \---De  mortuis  nil  nifi  bonum— 


t        67       3 

As  to  feis  boft,  a  in?  viler,  with  n  fneer, 
Said  of  his  DEAD  f mall-beer.  ' 

Go,  then,  poor  HONE!  and  join  a "numerous  train 
Sunk  in  Oblivion's  wide  pacific  ocean ; 
And  may  its  whale-like  fto'mach  feel  no  motion, 

rFo  caft  thee,  like  n  Jonah,  up  again. 


<*v2jf  Vo^r  "vyr  vjjr  ^c»r 
060  oQO  ?&  «i>  c$0 
/^X  /^»*.  ^'X  *<•  >k  /^A 


ODE        XIV. 

exhibit cth  the  Inconflancy  of  the  World,  by  the 
mofl  elegant  Compari fon  of  a  pock  of  Starlings. 

YoUNG  Artifts,  it  may  fo  fall  out 
rhat  folks  ihall  make  a  grievous  rout: 
rollo\v  you— praife  your  painting  to  the  skies; 
When,  p'rhaps  a  ribband,  (fie  upon  it!) 
,A  feather,  or  a  tawdry  bonnet, 
Caught,  by  its  glare,  their  wonder-fpying  eyes. 

lierefore,  don't  thence  fuppofe,  that  you  inherit 
Mountains  of  unexampled  merit; 
^hat  always  yon  fball  be  purfifd, 
Vnd  like  a  wond  rous  Beauty,  woo'd.  ' 

"Jreat  is  the  world's  inconftancy,  God  knows !— - 
',  like  the  ocean/  ebbs,  as  well  as  flows ; 
year  the  million  pitches  on  a  Ruff, 

^  Balloon  Cap— a  Shaul— a  Muff;--- 

jzr  you,  no  longer  cares  a  fingle  rufli, 

fomc  other  Brother  of  the  Brulh. 


To  raife  to  nobler  flights  the  Mufe's  wing, 
\\fmilfl  a  very  pretty  thing; 

G2 


To  whofe  fwcet  aid  I'm  oft  a  humble  debtor, 
Tillu'lrate  will)  more  force  the  thing  I  mean; 
And  if  the  Simile  be  neat  and  clean, 

Taut  tnieux— that  is— -Jo  wucb  the  better. 

Therefore,  young  folks,  as  there's  a  gre$t  deal  in't, 
Accept  one,  juil  imported  from  the  rii 

You've  H  ,  to  be  fare, 

[  r  more ; 

A  Jump  of  hone-h:  ground, 

Down  drops  the  c  c'cud  upon  the  dung. 

Then,  Lord  !   w!w  .v'ns  what  admirr.tlw 

icy9  v,  ha?  i  idft  the  fbeckled  nr-.uouj 

lio\v  biify  t.  •  ev'ry  toi:*?;c  i 

And  '  lone  !HVni?ig, 

Tuft  !i:{e  n  groi  (tips  at  a  chiift'mng ;™ 

'Let  but  H  afj-green  fkce^ 

They're  //.o,  \vitho:.  n  as  faying  grace; 

And'lo!  the  bufy  flock  around  it  pitches! 
'[•life  ?s  upon  th-.}  lump  before, 

r 


O     D     R        XV. 


ivcni^  rty  -cm:  folks, 

y-Iike.  the  French, 
; .11  (landing  jokes, 
ifcilt  a  mail  or  wench. 

•on To  of   Commons,  \vl 
r:od  r'i:  Starting  MARTYN. 


C     «p     ] 

If  Monfieur  paints  a  man  of  faftion, 

Making  an  obeifiince  well  bred, 
The  gentleman's  a  ram-cat  in  a  pstflion, 

His  back  all  crumpled  o'er  his  head: 
Or,  if  he  paints  a  wretch  upon  the  wheel, 

And  bone-breaking's  no  trifling  tbing^  G-d  knows! 
Amidft  his  pains,  the  fellow's  fo  genteel !: 

He  fee /s  with  fuch  decorum  all  the  blows. 

©r  of  a  culprit's  going  to  the  V/m7, 
Which  fome  folks  alfb  deem  a  ferious  evil, 
So  degage  you  fee  the  man  advance, 

His  arms,  hands,  ihoulders,  turn'd-out  toes, 

Madonna-lifted  eyes,  and  cock'd  up  nofe, 
Proclaim  the  pretty  puppy  in  a  dance. 
I've  fe'eil  a  fleeping  VENUS,  I  declare, 
With  hands  and  legs  ftretch'd  out  with  fuch'wi  air! 
Her  neck  and  head,  fo  twilled  on  one  fhoulder, 
With  fuch  a  heaSnly  fmile,  that  each  beholder 
Would  fwear,  (difdaining  DANCING'S  vulgar  track) 
The  Dame  was  walking  minuets  on  her  Back;  i 
Ev'n  an  old  woman,  yielding  up  her  breach, 

By  means  of  cholic,  ftone,  or  gravel; 
How  fmirkingly  {he  feels  the  pangs  of  death ! 

With  what  a  grace  her  foul  prepares  to  travel! 

A  Frenchman's  Angel  is  an  Qp'ra  Punk ; 
His  Virgin  Marys—milliners  half  drunk  ; 
Our  bled  Redeemer,  a  rank  petit  ma  it  re  *> 
In  ev'ry  attitude  and  feature;' 
The  humble  Jofrph,  fo  genteelly  made. 
And  only  fit  to  compliment  his  wife— 
So  delicate!  ns  if  he  fcafce;ly:knevv 


Oak,  from  deal  board— a  gimblet,  fromafcrevv^ 

And  never"  made  a  Mcdsii-tRAf  in  Ills  life. 


/nd  vomited  them  up,,  thank  .God,  again; 
So  tlrjit  Fin  able  now  to  fay, 
1  carry  'd  nought  of  tbcifs  away, 

V/hich  oiherwile  had  made  the  puppies  va 


ODE       XVI. 

b  an  arrant  Egotift.*~Men~ 

1  .  c  Folks.  —  This  minute  condemn* 

:;s  rerfes,  and  the  t?exf9  excul-. 

by  ch/^plng  the  right  laddie  en 


JL\  O  G  retb  in  his  conrfc,, 

'    T.  a  winning  horfe$ 
KOI  .  *  to  preferve  a  box, 

Kot  George  :hc  Third  to  triumph  o'er  Charles  Fox; 

Not  Spain's  wife  I\To-inrch  to  bombard  Algiers— 
No  by  the  Law's  ftern  voice, 

Ca:]  ;;ce' 

^  o  hold  Kit  :  s  two  enrs ; 

!o:ic  i'itt 
:-rs  to  be  fed, 
1 -.          .•.•;  -r  v^?i  i  '(or  f  in  a  fair  young1  Tit, 

!\  s,  to  hear,  a  i3iihop's  dead: 

Kot  more  reform'd  John  Wiikes  to  court  the  Crown, 
Ivor  -Skinner  in  his  Aldennanic  gown,. 

,Nor  Comino!i-Coii!)ciI-men  on  turtle  feeding: 

:  reioice  o!J  envious  Plaids  fo  frale, 
y,  ^  /^?//  tale* 

"    1  :wsen  Mrs.Hobnrt  nnd  Lady  Salisbury. 

;  ,  about  a  bax  at  the  Opera.,   is    a  SUBJECT   ibr  thv 


X.      7i      3 

i 

,  And  tell  the  world,  a  reigning  Toaft  is  breeding: 
Than  I,  the  Poet,  in  a  lucky  Ode 

That  catches  at  a  hop  the  Cynic  face; 

Kills,  by  a  laugh,  its  grave  Bubonic  face; 
And  tears,  in  fpite  of  him,  hi$  jaws  abroad, 

And  are  there  fuch  grave  Dons,  that  read  my  rhimes  ? 

A;  I  gracious  Heav'n,  forgive  their  crimes! 

Oh!  be  their  lot  to  have  wife-talking  w\\zs\ 
And  if  in  reading  they  delight, 
To  read,  ye  gods  \  from  morn  to  night, 

7/7/7  JVbitehead\  *  Birth-day  Sonnets  all  their  lives* 

• 

P'rhaps,  reader,  thou'rt  a  tinker,  or  a  tanner, 

And  mendeft  kettles  in  a  pretty  manner; 

Or  manef!  hides  of  bulls,  and  cows,  and  calves; 
r,  if  the  faucepan,  or  the  kettle, 
: j.lnally  be  bad  metal, 

Thou"  It  fay,  "  It  om'y  can  be  done  by  balv-es  ,*" 

Or  if,  by  Nature.,  bad  the  bullocks'  skins, 

€i  They'll  make  vile  ihoes  and  boots  for  people's  Jlfns* 

Then  wherefore  do  I  thus  abufe 

Will  Whitehcad's  bard-d^^n  Mufc? 
\Vho  merits  rather  Pity's  tend' reft  figh: 

For  what  the  devil  can-  he  do, 

When  forc'd  to  pra-ife— fbe  Lord  knows  wbot 
Vcrfe  /;///;?  b.c  dull,  on  fubi-jfts  ib  darnn'd  dry. 


v/ns  wrirrc'.i   before   a  late  Laurent  reffanM  h;s 

'or  a  b~  •/.••<"•/•  or  e.  fvl,-  ^V  art  on  be  more 

lane  adulation:;,   :ii';d  not  verily  the  L-ML\I 


0    D    E        XVII.' 

The  claffic  PETER  advifeth  Painters  to  cultivate  Tafte* 
Lajle'tb  fome  of  the  Ignorant-, — Accufeth  Painters 
of  an  ajf-cftion  for  vulgarity,  whom  he  horfe-whippeth-  - 
Recommenaeth  a  charming  fubjeft. — Telling  the  fe- 
cret  of  bis  Lo*>e,  and  giveth  a  die-away  Sonnet  .of 
former  days.—Perfecuteth  TENIER'S  Devils,  but  a£« 
flaudeth  tie  Execution* 


JL  A  INTEK  S,  improve  your  education, 
That  furely  (lands  in  need  of  reformation. 
I've  heard,  that  Tome  can  neither  write  nor  read. 
Which  does  ho  honor  to  the  hand  or  nead. 

Many,  I  know.,  xvouid  rather  paint  a  bear, 

Or  monkey  playing  his  quaint  tricks, 
Than  fome  fweer  damfel,  whom  all  hearts  revere,  • 

Whofe  charms  the  eye  of  admiration  fix- 
Would  rather  fee  a  flump  with  drength  expreft, 
Than  all  the  fnowy  fullnefs'of  her  Breaft* 
Or  LIP,  that  Innocence  fo  fweetly  moves, 
Or  SMILE,  the  fond  Elyfmm  of  the  Loves, 

This  brings  tbofe  days  to  mem'ry,  when  my  tongue 
To  Cynthia's  Beauty  ponr"'d  my  foul  in  fong; 
When  on  the  margin  of  the  mufnfring  flream, 
My  fancy  frequent  forrn'd  the  golden  dream 
Of  Cynthia's  grace— of  Cynthia's  fmiles  divine, 
And  made  thole  fmiles  and  peerk-fs  beauty  mine. 

It  brings  to  memVy,  too,  thofj  difmal  times, 

\\  lun  ngu^ht  my  fighs  avail'd,  and  nought  my  rhimes 


t          73        ] 

When,  at  the  filent,  folemn  clofe  of  day, 
My  penfive  fteps  would  court  the  darkling  grove, 

To  hear,  in  Philomela's  lonely  lay, 
The  fainting  echoes  of  my  lucklcfs  love; 

Till  night's  increafing  {hades  around  me  dole, 

And  mingled  with  the  gloom  that  wrapp'd  my  foul. 

Reader — Do'fl  chufe  a  fonnet  of  thofe  days  ? 
Take  it— and  lay  not  I'm  a  foe  to  PRAISE. 


To    C  Y  N  T  II  I  A. 

0  THOU!  whofe  love-infpiring  air 
Delights,  yet  gives  a  thoufand  woes; 

My  clay  declines  in  dark  defpair, 
And  night  hath  loft  her  fweet  repofe; 

Yet  who,  alas !  like  me  was  bled, 

To  others,  ere  thy  charms  were  known ; 

\Vh2n  Fancy  told  my  rapmr'd  breail, 
That  Cynthia  finil'd  on  me  alone? 

Nymph  of  my  foul !  forgive  my  fighs : 
Forgive  the. jealous  fires  I  feel; 

Nor  blame  the  trembling  wretch,  who  dies,, 
When  others  to  thy  beauties  kneel. 

Lo !  their* s  is  cv'ry  winning  art, 

V/ith  Fortune's  gifts,  unknown  to  me! 

1  only  boaft  a  fimple  heart, 

In  love  with  INNOCENCE  and  THEE* 


T'rild  not,  a -as!  your  popularity 

On  tnnt  beofFs  back,  yclep'd  Vulgarity  ; 

A  b 2? ft  that  many  a  booby  takes  a  pride  in—-. 

A  bead  beneath  tbe  noble  Peter's  riding* 


74        3 

fhould  the  mail,  who  loves  to  be  uncbafte, 
To  feed  on  carrion,  dread  his  hound-like  paunelv 
Judge  of  an  Ortolan's  delicious  talle, 

Or  feel  the  flavour  of  a  fine  fat  haunch? 
Or,  wont  with  bitter  pearl  to  wet  his  chy, 
How  fhould  he  judge  of  Claret  or  Tokay? 

Tenters9  Devils,  Witches,  Monkies,  Toads, 
That  make  me  fnudder  while  I  pen  thefe  Odes, 

Mod  truly  painted,  to  be  fure,  you'll  find: 
How  greater  far  the  excellence,  to  paint 
With  heav'n-direfted  eye,  the  b'eauteous  SAINT, 

And  mark  th*  emotions  of  her  angel  mind? 
Envy  not  fitch  'as  have  in-  DIRT  furpafl  ye  '•, 
"Tis  vcry9  very  eafy,  to  be  N^STY! 


&    D    E       XVIII. 

The  moralizing  Bard  cxpofeth  the  mfairnefs  of  man 
kind  in  the  article  of  laughing  ;  Defcanteth  upon 
WIT,-  Difclaimeth  pretcnficn  to  it  $  Mahsthloveto 
r^  an&modeftifconcludcth*  • 


H< 


LOW  dearly  mortals  love  to  laugh  and  grin! 
Juil  as  they  love  tc  fluff  themfelves  to  chiti, 
With  other  people's  meat— good  laving  fenfe ! 
Becaufe  at  other  folks'  expenfe ; 

But  turn  the  laugh  on  them— how  chang'd  their  notes! 
46  O  damn  'em!  this  is  feriotis — cut  their  throats!" 
WIT,  fays  an  author,  that  I  do  not  know, 
Is  like  TIME's  fey  the — cuts  down   both  friend  and 

foe  ;— 
Ready  each  object,  tyger-like,  to  leap  on ! 

"  Lord!  what  a  butcher  this  fame  wif!  thank  God! 

"  (A  critic^cries)  in  maftcr  Pindar's  Ode, 
^:We  fpy  th'  efleft  of  no  fuch  da 


C      -75        3 

No,  Sir— 'tis  dove-eye'd  CANDOR's  charms 

I  woo  to  thefe  defiring  arms ; 

She  is  iny  GODDESS — to  her  fhrine  I  bend : 
NYMPH  of  the  voice  thai  beats  the  morning  lark, 
Swe^t  as  the  dulcet  note  of  either  Park*, 

Be  thou  my  foft  companion  and  my  friend! 

Thy  lovely  hand  my  Pegafxis  ihall  guide, 
And  teach  thy  tnodeft  pupil  how  to  ride: 
Thus  Ihall  I  hurt  not  any  groupe-com$ofer$9 
i  From  Sarah  Benwell's  brujb^  to  Mary  IVIozer's f  „ 


ODE        XIX. 

The  judicious  PETER  givetb  mo  ft  wholefome  Advice  to 
Landscape  Painters* 


HATE'ER  your  wim,  in  Landfcape  to  excel, 

London's  the  very  place  to  mar  it; 
Believe  the  oracles  I  tell, 

There's  very  little:  Landfcape  in  a  Garret. 
Whate'er  the  flocks  of  Fleas  you  keep, 
9Tis  badly  copying  them  for  Goats  and  Sheep  ; 

And  if  you'll  take  the  Poet's  honed  word, 
A  BUG  mufl  make  a  miferable 


A  Rujb-ligbt  winking  in  a  bottle's  neck, 
111  reprefents  the  glorious  ORB  of  MORN; 

Nay,  though  it  were  a  candle  with  a  wi 
'Twojuld  be  a  representative  forlorn. 


*  Two  brothers  of  the  moft  diftinguifhed  merit  on  the  Oboe* 
t  The  lad  of  thofe  Lndies^  an  R.  A.  by  means  of  a  fublints 
picture  of  a  plate  of  GOOSEBKRRIES— the  other  in  hopes  of  A- 
cademic  honors,  through  an  equal  degree  of  merit. 


I  think,  too,  that  a  man  would  be  a  fool. 
For  trees,  to  copy  legs  of  a  joint-flocl; 

Or  e'en  by  them  to  reprefent  a  flump : 
As  alfo  brdwnftivk* — which,  though  well  he  r!g 
Each  with  an  old  fox-colored  wig, 

Mufe  make  a  very  poor  autumnal  clump. 

You'll  fay — Yet  fuch  ones,  oft  a  perfon  fees 

In  many  an  ArtilFs  trees ; 

And  in  fome  Paintings,  we  have  all  beheld ; 

Green  'Bays  hath  furely  fat  for  a  green  Field ; 

Bolfters  for  Mountains,  Hills,  and  wheaten  Mows; 

Cats  for  Ram-goats ;— and  Curs,  for  Bulls  and  Cows, 

All  this,  my  Lads,  I  freely  grant; 

But  better  things  from  You,  I  want. 

As  SHAKESPEARE  fays,  (a  Bard  I  much  approve*) 

"  Lift,  lift,  Oh!  lift"— it  thou  doll  PAINTING  love, 

CLAUDE  painted  in  the  open  air ! — 
Therefore  to  Wales  at  once  repair; 
Where  fcenes  of  true  magnificence  you'll  find : 
Befides  this  great  advantage — if  in  debt, 
You'll  have  with  creditors  no  tete-a-tete : 
So  leave  the  bull-dog  Bailiffs  all  behind', 
Who,  hunt  you,  with  what  noife  they  may, 
Muft  hunt  for  needles  in  a  flack  of  hay. 


ODE        XX. 

The  Poet  hinteth  to  Artifls  the  value  of  Time* 

A  HE  'Man,  condemned  on  Tyburn-tree  to  fiviti 
Deems  fuch  a  mew  a  very  dullifb  thing ; 
He'd  rather  a  SPECTATOR  be,  I  ween, 
Than  the  fad  ACTOR  in  the  fcene. 


77       ] 


He  blames  the  LAW'S  too  rigid  refoluiion : 
'i  If  with  3  beef-iiakc  (tom-ach—  in  his  prime. 
Lord,  with  what  reverence  he  looks  on  Time  2 

And,  mod  of  til—the  hour  of  execution ! 
And  as'  the  curt  doth  to  the  tree  advance, 
•llo\vwondl>rou$  willing  to  poflpone  the  DANCE  ! 

Believre  me,  Time's  of  monftrous  ufe; 

But,  ah !  how  fubjecl  to  abufe ! 
It  teems  that,  with  him,  folks  were  often  dofdi 

I  do  pronounce  it,  Time's  a  public  good, 

Juft  like  a  youthful  Beauty— to  be  woo'd, 
Made  much  of,  and  be  properly  enjoy'd. 

Time's  (and  is  wonderfully  fmall : 

It  flips  between  the  fingers  in  a  hurry; 

Therefore,  on  each  young  AnilVlet  me  call, 
To  prize  it,  as  an  Indian  does  his  Curry* ; 

•Whether  his  next  rare  Exhibition  be 

•Amidil  the  great  R.  A.'s— or  on  a  TREE. 


ODE        XXL 

The  unfortunate  PETER  lamenteth  the  lofs  of  an  im~ 
port  ant  Ode,  by  Rats. — He  prayetb  devoutly  for  the 
Rats. 


IL 


\~IATUS  maxime  deflendus! 
I've  loll  an  ODE  of  charming  praife ; 
From  like  misfortune,  Heav'n  defend  us  ! 

The  fweeteft  of  my  Lyric  Lays  f 
Where  many  a  youthful  Artift  ihone  with  fame, 
Like  his  own  pictures  in  a  fine  gilt  frame. 
Perdition  catch  the  roguifti  rats  \ 
Their  trembling  limbs  ihould  fill  the  mnws  of  cats, 
H 

*  An  univerfa!  food  in  the  Eaft-Indifl^ 


[        78         ] 

Were  I  to  be  their  fole  advifer  ! 

Vermin!  like. trunk-makers  and  paltry-cooks^ 
s    Dealing  in  legions  of  delightful  books, 
Yet  with  the  learning,  not  a  whit  the  wifer. 
Thank  G-d!  the 'Ode  unto  MYSELF  they  fpafid 
And,  lo  \   the  labour  of  the  lucky  Bard. 


ODE        XXII. 
To      M    Y    S  /£    L    F. 

The  exalted  PETER  titijbetb  to  make  the  gaping  wo 
acquainted  with  the  place  of  his  nativity  ; — but  be 
fore  he  can  get  an  anfwer  from  himfelf,  he  mofl  fu- 
blimely  burfieth  forth  into  an  addrefs  to  Mennygiz- 
zy  avd  Moufe-hole,  two  fijbing-t owns  in  Cornwall — the 
firft  celebrated  for  Pilcfyard^  the  la  ft  for  giving  birth 
to  Dolly  Pen{reath—The  Poet  praifeth  the  Honourable 
-Dairies  Harrington,  and  Pilchards-^Forgetteth  the 
place  of  his  nativity?  and^  like  his  great  anceftor  of 
Thebes,  leaveth  his  readers  in  the  dark* 


o 


THOU!  vvhofe  daring  works  fublime 
Defy  the  rudeft  rage  of  Time, 
Say! — for  the  world  is  with  conje&ure  dizzy, 
DidMoufc-hole  give  thee  birth ,  or  Mennygizzy? 


HAIL  Mennygizzy !  what  a  town  of  note! 

Where  boats,  and  men/  and  ilinks,  and  trade  are  Hir 
ing; 
Where  pilchards  come  in  myriads  to  be  caught; 

Pilchard!  a  thoufand  times  as  good's  a  herring. 


L    79    r 

Pilchard!  the  idol  of  the  Popim  nation! 
Hail,  little  inftrument  of  vaft  falvation ! 
Pilchard,  I  ween,  a  moft  foul-faving-nm, 

On  which  the  Catholics  in  Lent  are  cramnfd i 
Who,  had  they  not,  poor  fouls,  this  lucky  diih, 

Would  fteih  eat,  and  be  confequently  damrfcl. 
Pilchards !  whofe  bodies  yield  the  fragrant  oil, 
And  make  the  London  lamps  at  midnight  fmile; 
Which  lamps,  wide  fp.readin£  falutary  light, 
Beam  on  the  wand'ring  BEAUTIES  of  the  night, 
And  fhow  each  gentle  youth  their  cheek's  deep  roles, 
And  tell  him,  whether  they  have  eyes  and  nofes. 

Hail,  Moufe-hole !  birth-place  of  old  Doll  Pentreath*, 

The  laft.  who  jabber'd  Cornjm— fo  fays  Daines,    . 
Who,  bat-like,  haunted  ruins,  lane,  and  heath, 

With  Will  o'  Wifp,  to  brighten  up  his  brains. 
Daines !  who  a  thoufand  miles,  unweary'd,  trots 
For  bones,  brafs  farthings,  aihes  and  old  pots, 
To  prove  that  folks  of  old,  like  us,  were  made, 
With  heads,  eyes,  hands,  and  toes,  to  drive  a  trade, 
Ha 


*  A  very  old  woman  of  Moiife-hole,  fuppofcd  (fitfily  how 
ever)  to  have  been  the  laft  who  fpoke  the  Cornifli  language. 
The  honourable  Antiquarian,  Daines  Barringron,  i?,fq.  journied, 
feme  years  fince,  from  London  to  the  Land's  end,  to  coi.verfe 
with  this  wrinkled,  yet  delicious  morcenu.  He  entered  Mo nfe- 
hole  in  a  kind  of  triumph,  and,  peeping  into  her  hut,  exclaim 
ed,  with  all  the  fire  of  an  enraptured  Lover,  in  the  language 
of  the  famous.  Greek  Philofopher— "  bcttreka  /"  The  couple 
rifled— Doll  loon  after  gab&led—'Da.incs  liftened  with  admira 
tion—committed  her  fpceches  to  paper,  not  venturing  to  truft 
is  memory  with  fo  much  treaf::re.  The  tranfaCtion  was  an- 
rp'.inccd  to  the  Society — The  Journals  were  enriched  with  their 
dialogues— the  old  Lady's  picture  was  ordered  to  be  taken  by 
the  moft  eminent  Artift,  and  the  honourable  member  to  be 
publicly  thanked  for  the  DISCOVERY  ! 


80 


O     D     E        XXIII, 

FE  T,R  covchideth  bis  Odes—Seemetb  Hitngry—Expoftu- 
latctb  with  the  Reader—  And  gettetb  the  ftart  oftbe 
J'I7orld,  by  frjl  praiftrig  bis  own  Works. 

rp 

L  CM  Southern  to  John  Dryden  went  one  day, 
To  buy  a  head  and  tail-piece  for  his  play  : 
*•  Thomas,"    quoth  John,    "  I've  fold  my  goods  too 

"  cheap, 
f<  So,  if  you-pleafe,  my  price  faali  take  a  leap" 

O,  Reader,  look  me  gravely  in  the  face  ;-  — 
Speak,  is  not  that,  with  me  and  thee,  the  cafe? 
For  this  Year's  Odes  I  charge  thee  half-a-crown  ; 
So,  without  grumbling,  put  thy  money  down: 
For  things  are  delperately  ris'n,  good  Lord  ! 
]  iili,  fle(h,  coals,  candles,  window-lights  and.  board! 
Why  fnould  not  charming  POETRY  then  rife? 
That  comes  fo  dev'filh  far  too  —  from  the  skies! 
And  lo  !  the  verfes  that  adorn  fbis  page, 
13ea;i).  .  '-asi  i)ut  ones  an  age. 


FAREWELL    ODES. 

•   . 
FOR     THE     YEAR     M.DCC.LXXX  V  I. 


_,. Ridentem  ellcere  verum 

Quid  vet  at  ?--—  HOR. 


O   >D    E        I. 

PETER  talketh  of  refigning  the  Laureatjlip^ — He  profile-* 
ftetb  the  Triumph  of  the  ARTISTS  on  hh  refignation. 
The  ARTISTS  alfo  prophefy  to  PETER'S  D.ifddvantage — 
PETER'S  laft  Comforts,  jbould  their  Prophecy  he  ful 
filled. 

JT  ETER,  like  fam'd  Chriftina,  Qneen  of  Sweden, 
Who  thought,  a  wicked  court  was  not  an  Eden9 
This  year,  refigns  the  laurel  crown,  Cor  ever! 
What  all  the  fam'd  ACADEMICIANS  wifh— 
No  more  on  painted  fowl,  and  flelh  and  fi(h, 
Me  ihows  the  world  his  carving  skill,  fo  clever. 
Brafs,  iron,  woodwork,  (lone,  in  peace  (hall  reft—. 
**  Thank,  God  I"  exclaim  the  works  of  Mr.  WEST.  - 
H3 


'  t      **      3 

*;  Thank  God!"  the  works  of  Loutherbourg  exckim—  - 

For  guns  of  critics,  no  ignoble  game— 

*fc  No  longer  now  afraid  of  rhiming  praters, 

fci  Shall  we  be  chriften'd  tea-board^  varnijtid  waiters  * 

"  No  vcrfc  fliall  fwear,  that  our's  are  page-board  rocks  ; 

**  Our  trees,:  M?/}-<*V£Sj  and  ?;;0/>s  our  fleecy  Hocks." 


fe<  Thank  TIeav'n  !"    exclaims  RIGAUD,  with  fparkling  - 

eyes— 

"  Th^*,  ihall  my  pictures  in  importance  rife^; 
a/  Ana  till  each  gaping  mouth  and  eye  with  wonder." 

Monfieur  Rigaud, 

It  may  be  fo, 

To  think  thy  liars  have  made  fo  ftrange  a  blunder, 
That  bred  to  paint  ^  the  genius  of  a  glazier; 
That  fpoil'd  to  make  a  dauber  ya  good  brazier. 
3\To,ne  but  thy  partial  tongue  (believe  my  lays) 
Can  dare  ftand  forth  the  herald  of  thy  praife  : 
<.''juld  Fame  applaud,  whofe  voice  my  verfe  reveres^ 
JUSTICE  iliould  break  her  trump  about  her  ears. 

*c  Thank  Heav'n  !"  cries  Mr.  GARVEY  ;  and  "  Thank  - 
"God!" 

Cries  Mr.  COPLEY,  "  that  this  Man  of  Ode 

*•  No.  more,  Barbarian  like,  ihall  o'er  us  ride: 
46  No  more,  like  beads,  in  nafty  order  ftrung, 
"  And  -round  the  waift  of  this  vile  MOHAWK  hung, 

*'  Shall  academic  fai/ps  indulge  his  pride. 

"  No.-,mor-c?..hung  up  in  this  dread  fellow's  rhimeK_ 
*>  Which  he  "mo  ft  impudently  calls  fublime^ 

"  Shall  we,  poor,  inoffcnuye  fouls, 

44  Appear  juft  like  fo  many  moles, 
*f*Trapp'd  in  an  orchard,  garden,  or  a  field; 

'*  Which  mole-catchers  fulpend  on  trees, 

"  To  fnew  their  titles  to  their  fees— 
4i  Like  Doctors,  paid  too  often  for  the  kilfd?*" 


Pleas'd,  that  no  more  my  verfes  (hall  annoy, 
Glad  that  my  blifter  Odes  ihall  ceafe  their  flinging* 

Each  wooden  figure's  mouth  expands  with  joy — 
Hark !  how  they  all  break  forth  in  finging ! — 

In  boaftful  founds,  the  grinning  ARTISTS  cry, 
"  Lo!  PETER'S  hour  of  infolence  is  o'er: 

"  His  Mufe  is  dead—his  lyric  pump  is  dry — 
a  His  Odes,  like  (linking  f<ih,  not  worth  a  groat  * 
"  fcore. 

<4  Art  thou,  then,  weak,  like  us,  thou  fhafling  fniv'ler? 

**  Art  thou,  like  one  of  us,  thou  lyric  driv'ler? 

*c  Our  Kings  and  Queens  in  glory  now  Ihall  lie, 

"  Each  umnolefted,  deeping  in  his  frame; 
**  Our  ponds,  our  lakes,  our  oceans,  earth,  and -sky, 

"  No  longer,  fcouted,  fhall  be'put  to  ihame  : 
"  No  poet's  rage  Ihall  root  our  flumps  and  fhimplings, 
"  And  fwear  our  clouds  are.  flying  apple-dumplings: 
44  Fame  Ihall  proclaim,  how  well  our  plumb-trees  bud, 
"  And  found  the  merits  of  our  marie  and  mud." 

"Our  oaks,  our  brufhwood,  and  our  lofty  elms, 
"  No  jingling  tyrant's  wicked  rage  o'erwhelms, 

"  Now  this  vile  FELLER  is  laid  low. 
*••  In  peace  ihall  our  (tone-hedges. deep, 

"  Our  huts,  out  barns,  our  pigs,  and  fheep, 
44  And  wild-fowl,  from  the  eagle  to  the  crow," 

They,-. who-  Ihall  fee  this  PETER  in  the  ftreet, 
With  fearlefs  eye  his  front  ihall  meet, 

And  cry,  "  Is  this  the  man  of  keen  remark  ? 
*-  Is  this  the  wight?  (Ihall  be  their  taunting  fpeech} 
"  A  dog!  who  dar'd  to  fnap  each  artift's  breech, 

44  And  bite  Academicians,  like  a  {hark? 

"  He,  whofe  broad  cleaver  chop'd  the  fons  of  paint : 
**  Cruih'd,  like  a  marrowbone,  each  lovely  faintj 


f    34     ] 

"  SparM  not  the  very  clothes  about  their  backs  £ 
*>  The  little  duck-wing' d  cherubims  abu  'd, 
"  That  could  not  more  .inhumanly  be  us'd, 

"  Poor  lambkins !  had  they  fali'n  among  the  blacks* 
"  He,  once  fo  furious,  fdon  ihall  want  relief, 
"  Stak'd'  through  the  body,  like  a  paltry  thief. 

"  How  art  thou  falfn,  O  Cherokee!"  they  cry; 

"  How  art  thou  fali'n P  the  joyful  roofs  refound; 

"  Hell  ihall  thy  body,  for  a  rogue,  furround; 
"  And  there,  for  ever  reading,  may'd  thou  lie  : 
"  Like  Dives,  may'd  thou  dretch  in  fires  along, 
*'  Refused  one  drop  of  drink,  to  cool  thy  tongue.'1 

Ye  goodly  gentlemen,  reprefs  your  yell, 
Your  hearty  wiihes,  for  my  health  reftfain;  . 

For  if  our  works  can  put  us  'into  hell,  * 
Kind  Sirs !  we  certainly  ihall  meet  again : 

Nay,  what  is  worfe,  I  really  don't  know,  whether 

We  mud  not  lodge  in  the  fame  room  together. 

;  ' 

ODE        II. 

PETER  flogs  Academicians  and  Dinner- — Pities  the 
PRINCE  of  WALES,  Duke  of  ORLEANS,  Duke  FITZ- 
JAMES,  Count  LAUZUN,  Lords  CAERMARTHEN  and  BESS- 
BOROUGH,  &c.  and  praifes  Mr.  WELT]iE--Excu/pates 
the  PRESIDENT-  -Condemns  Sir  W.  CHAMBERS,  and  the 
COMMITTEE,  for  their  bad  Management — Talks  of  vi- 
fifing  the  French  KING,  and  the  Duke  of  ORLEANS. 


HENE'ER  ACADEMICIANS  run  adray, 
Such  fhould  the  moral  Peter's  long  reclaim—. 
Of  paint,  this  Ode  ihall  nothing  (ing  or  fay; 

My  eagle  fatire  darts  at  different  game.— 
Againd  decorum — I  abhor  a  /inner  $ 
And  therefore  iaib  the  Academic  dinner. 


L       «S       3 

*l\i' Academy >  though  marvelloufty  pooiy 

Can,  once  a  year,  afford  to  eat : 
By  means  of  kind  donations  at  the  door, 

The  members  nrade  a  comfortable  treat. 
Like  Gipfies  in  -a  barn,  around  their  king, 
That  annual  meet,  to  eat,  and  dance,  and  fing. — 
A  feaft  was  made,  of  flem,  fifh,  tarts,  creams,  jellies. 
To  fuit  the  various  qualities  of  bellies.. 
Mine  grumbled,  to  be  ask'd,  and  be  delighted— 
But  wicked  Peter's  paunch  was  not  invited. 

Yet,  though  no  meflage  waited  on  the  bard, 

With  compliments  from  Academic  names — 
The  Prince  of  Wales  receiv'd  a  civil  card, 

His  Grace  of  Orleans  too,  and  Duke  Fitzjaines ; 
Count  de  Lauzim,  a«d  Count  Gonflan 

A  near  relation -to  the  man-, 
In  whofe  poor  fides  old  .Ha\vke-  once  fix'd  his  claws-* 

Were  welcom'd  by  the  Academic  Lords, 

Either  by  writing,  or  by  words, 
To  come,  and  try  the  vigor  of  their  jaws. 

Unfortunately  for  the  modeft  Dukes, 

The  nimble  artifts,  all  with  greyhound  looks, 

Fellon  the  meat,  with  teeth  prodigious 
Seiz'd,  of  the  Synagogue,  \hz..higbeft  places, 
And  left  the  poor  forlorn,  their  Gallic  Graces, 

To  nibble>,at  the  bottom  of  the  table! 

There  fat,  too,  my  Lord.Caermarthen, 
As  one  of  the  Canaille,  not  worth  a  farthing! 
But  wh'at  can  titles,  virtues,  at  a  feaft, 
Where  glory  waits  upon  the.greateft  beaft  ? 

To  fee  a  (lone-cutter,  and  mafon, 

High  mounted,  o'er  thofe  men  of  quality, 

By  no  means  can  our  annals  blazon, 
For  feats  of  courtly  Lwfpitality. 

I-  ve  henrd.  however,  one  or  two  were  tanners 

Granted~~\t  dotii  not  much  improve  their 


t        8* .      3 

They,  probably,  in  anfrer,  may  declare, 
They  thought  the  feaft  jud  like  a  hunt; 

In  which,  as  foon  as  ever "darts,  the  hare, 
Each  Nlmrod  tries  to  be  the  firft  upon't: 

As  he's  the  great  eft,  'mid  11  the  bowling  fu ft 9  - 

Who  firft  can  triumph  o'er  poor  dying  piifs. 

Peters*  mod  judly  rais'd  his  eyes  of  wonder, 
And  wanted  decently  to  give  them  grace ; 

But  bent  on  vetf/on,  and  on  -fur hot-plunder, 

And  clatfring  peal*  of  knives  and  forks  took  place-s-  ; 

Spoons,  plates,  and  dimes,  rattling  round  the  table, 

Produc'd  a  new  edition  of  old  Babel.   - 

They  had  no  Stomach,  o'er  a  Grace  to  nod, 
Nor  time  enough,  to  offer  thanks  to  God : 

That  might  be  done  (they  wifely  knew) 

When  they  had  nothing  elfe  to  do. 

His  Htgbneft  entering  rather  fomewhat  late, 
Could  fcarcely  find  a  knife,  or  fork,  or  plate  s 

But  not  one  fingle  maiden  diih — 

Poor  gentleman !  of  fledi,  or  filh. 

Mod:  wofully  the  padry  had  been  paw'd, 
And  trembling  jellies  barbaroufly  claw'd. 
In  ihort— my  gentle  readers  to  amaze — 
Wit- Hightie fs  pick'd  the  bones  of  the  R.  A.'s. 

O  Weltjie  f,  had  thy 'lofty  form  been  there, 

And  feeti  thy  Prince  folerv'd  with  fcrap  and  flop, 
Thou  furely  v/ouldd  have  brought  htm  better  fare — 

A  warm  beef-deal:,  perchance,  or  iTiu'ron-chopV- 
Thou  wouldd  have  faid,    "  De  Prencs   of  m  f  Fates,   bj 
Got, 

"  Do  too  much  honour ',  to  be  at  dzr  feaft ; 
*•  Vere  be  catft  beb  von  beet  of  meat  djfs  kot+ 

"  But  treated  rid  de  bones,  jufl  like  a  bcaft. 

*  A  refp^&aWe  Clersyman,  and  one  of  the  ACticle-.rJv.ians. 
f  The  Prince's  Gennaii  coc-L. 


"  De  Prence,  be  vat  too  great,  to  fit  and  eat 
*fc  De  bones  and  leafings  of  de  meat  $ 
"  And  munflj  vat  dirty,  iow-Uf'd  rogues  refufe, 
44  By  Got!  not  fit  to  vipe  de  Prence's  fioes" 

>,Great  Befsb'rough's  Earl^too,  come  oft  fecond  befl  ; 
His  murm'ring  ftomach  had  not  half  a  fealty 

And  therefore  it  was  natural  to  mutter. 
To  rectify  the  rault,  with  joylefs  looks, 
-His  Lordihip  bore  his  belly  off  to  Brookes, 

Who  fill'd  the  grumbler  up  with  bread  and  butter* 

Sirs!  thofe  manoeuvres  were  extremely  coarfe  — 
This  really  was  the  eflence  of  ill-breeding. 

.Not,  for  your  fouls,  could  you  have  treated  worfe, 
Bum-bailiffs,  by  this  dog-like  mode  of  feeding. 

Grant,  you  eclipsM  a  pack  of  hounds,  with  glee 

Purfuing,  in  full  cry,  the  fainting  game-r 
•/Surpafs'd  them,  too,  in  gobbling  down  the  prey  ; 

Still,  great  R.  A?s->  I  tell  you,  'twas  aflame. 
•  •Grant,  each  of  you  the  wond'rous  man  excell'd, 

Who  beat  a  butcher's  dog,  in  eating  tripe  ; 
And  that  each  paunch,  with  guttling,  was  fo  fwell'd, 
Not  one  bit  more  could  pafs  your  fwallow-pipe  : 

Grant,  that  you  dar'd  fhch  (luffing  feats  difplay, 
That  not  a  foul  of  you  could  walk  away  : 
.Still,  'midft  the  triumphs  of  your  gobbling  fame, 
I  tell  you,  great  R.  ^.V,  it  was  z 


Grant,  you  were  greas'd,  up  to  the  nofe  and  eyes,- 
Your  cheeks  all  Ihining,  like  a  lantern's  horn  ; 

With  tearing  hams,  and  fowls,  and  giblet-pies, 
And  ducks,  and  geefe,  and  pigeons,  newly-  born: 

Though  great,  in  your  opinion,  be  your  fame, 

;1  tell  you,  great  R.  ^/.'s,  it  was  zjbame. 

This  Let  me  own-  —  the  candor-loving  Mufe 
Molt  willingly  Sir  Jojbua  can  excufe, 


C        -88        J 

Who  tries  the  nation's  glory  to  increafe  * 
"Whofe  genius  rare  is  very  fcldom  nodding, 
But  deep,  on  painting-fubjeds,  plodding, 

To  rival  Italy  and  Greece. 

But,  pray,  Sir  'William*,  what  have  you  to  fay? 
No  fuch  impediment  is  in  your  way : 

Genius  can't  hurt  your  etiquette-attention^ 
And,  Meffieurs  Ty/er,  Wilton,  and  Rigaud* 
Have  you  a  genius,  to  impede  you?  No ! 

Nor  many  a  one  befides,  that  I  coutd  mention. 

This  year  (God  willing)  I  fnall  vifit  France, 

And  tafte  of  Louis :  (Grand  Monarque  /)  the  prog* 
His  Grace  of  Orleans,?  fo  kind,  perchance, 
May  ask  me  to  his  houfe,  to  pick  a  frog* 
And  yet,  what  right  have  /,  to  vifit  there? 
To  fee  .a  man,  fo  vilely  treated  here? 

Ye  Royal  Ariifts, .  at  your  future  feafls, 

I  fear,  you'll  make  their  Graces  downright  Daniels: 
And,  as  the  Prophet  ditfd  among  mid  beafts? 

will  join  your  pointers,  .and  your  fpanieh* 


ODE         III. 


Peter  givetb  fage  Advice  to  mercenary  Artifts ;  anct 
telleth  a  mo  ft  deleftable  ftory^  of~a  country  Bumpkin* 
and  a  peripatetic  Razor-feller. 


1    ORBEAR,  my  friends,  to  facrifice  your  fame 
To  fordid  gain,  unlefs  that  you  are  ftarvingi 

I  own,  that  hunger  will  indulgence  claim, 
For  hard  (lone  heads,  and  landfcape-carving, 

*  Sir  W.  Chnmbcrs. 


In  order' to  make  hafte,  to  fell  and  cat; 
For  there  is  certainly  a  charm  in  meat: 
And  in  rebellious  tones,  will  ftomachs  fpeaks 
That  have  not  tailed  visuals,  for  a  "week. 

But  yet  there  are  a  mercenary  crew, 
Who  value  fame,  no  more,  than  an  old  flioe ; 
Provided,  for  their  daubs,  they  get  a  fale : 
Juft  like  the  man— -but,  flay I'll  tell  the  talc, 

A  fellow,  in  a  market-town, 

Mo  ft  mufical,  cry'd  razors  up  and  down ; 

And  offer' d  twelve,  for  eighteen  pence; 
Which  certainly  feem'd  wond'rous  cheap, 
And,  for  the  money,  quite  a  heap, 

As  ev'ry  man  would  buy,  with  cam  and  fenfe. 

A  country  Bumpkin  trie  great  offer  heard, 

Poor  Ho.tge,  who  fuffer'd  by  a  broad,  black  beard, 

That  ieein'd  a  fhoe-bram,  ftuck  beneath  his  nofe : 
With  chearfulnefs,  the  eighteen  pence  he  paid; 
And  proudly  to  himfelf,  in  whifpers,  faid: 

"  This  rafcal  fiole  the  razors,  I  fuppofe." 

"  No  matter,  if  the  fellow  be  a  knave, 
"  Provided  that  the  razors  flav^. 

46  It  certainly  will  be  a  monftrous  prize" 
So  home  the  clown,  with  his  good  for  tune  >>  went— 
Smiling— -in  heart  and  fouU  Content--- 

And  quickly  foap'd  himfelf,  to  ears  and  eyes. 

Being  well  lather'd,  from  a  difh  or  tub, 

Hodge  now  began,  with  grinning  pain,  to  grub, 

Juft  like  a  hedger  cutting  furze. 
'Twas  a  vile  razor!— then  the  reft  he  try'd — 
•All  were  impoftors. — "Ah!"  Hodge  figh'd, 

**'•!  wilh  my  eighteen  pence  were  in  my  purfe!"1* 


, 
C         90        J 


IH  VRUV  to  chafe  his  beard,  and  bring  the  graces, 
He    cut,  and  dug,   and  win'e'd,    and  ftamp'd,    and 

fwore •> 
Brought  blood,  and  danc'd,  blafphem'd,  and  made  wry 

faces ; 
And  curs'd  each  razor's  body,  o'er  and  o'er, 

His  m;izzle,  form'd  of  oppofition  (luff, 
Firm  as  a  Foxite,  would  not  lofe  Its  ruff; 

So  kept  it—- laughing  at  the  Heel  and  fuds. 
Fcr'a'e,  in  a  padlon,  ftretch'd  his  angry  jaws, 
Vowing  the  direft  vengeance,  with  clench'd  claws, 

On  the  vile  cheat,  that  fold  the  goods— 
"  Razors! — (a  damn'd,  confounded  dog!)— 
"  Not  fit  to  fcrape  a  hog! 

Hodge  fought  the  fellow-found  him,  and  begun— 
"  P'rhaps,  Matter  Razor-rogue^  to  you  'tis  fun, 

*'  That  people  flay  themfelves  out  of  their  lives ! 
"  You  rafcal! — for  an  hour,  have  I  been  grubbings 
"  Giving  my  fcoundrel  whiskers  here  a  fcrubbing, 

"  With  razors,  juft  like  oyfter-knives. 
"  Sirrah !  I  tell  you,  you're  a  knave, 
"  To  cry  up  razor s^  that  car? t [have! 

"  Friend,  (quoth  the  razor-man)  Pm  not  a  knave  ^ 

Ci  As  for  the  razors,  you  have  bought, 

"  Upon  my  foul!  I  never  thought, 
"  That  they  would  Jlaye. 

"  Not  think,   they'd  (have  !" quoth  Hodge,   with 

wond'ring  eyes, 

And  voice,  #ot  much  unlike  an  Indian  yell; 
44  Wbat  were  they  made  f&r,   then  ?  you  dog  !"   he 

cries : 
«  Made!"  quoth  tlie  fellow,  with  a  fmile— "  to  fell.r 


ODE        IV. 

PETER  olfervet'b  the  LEX  TAUONIS. 


EST  tells  the  world,  that  Peter  cannot  rhyme; 

Peter  declares,  point  blank,  that  Weft  can't  painty 
Weft  fwears,  I've  not  an  atom  of  fublime  5 

1 fivear,  be  hatb  no  notion  of  a  faint; 
And  that  his  crofs-wing'd  cherubirns  are  fowls, 
Baptized  by  naturalifts— owls ; 
Half  of  the  meek  Apoftles,  gangs  of  robbers  > 
His  Angels,  fets  of  brazen-headed  lubbers, 

The  holy  Scripture  fays,  "  all  ft  eft)  is  grafs" 
With  Mr.  Weft,  all  fl eft  is— brick,  and  bra 
Except  his  horfe-fleih ;  that,  I  freely 
Is  often  of  the  choicelt—  P&rttand'flwe* 

I've  laid,  too*  that  this  artifPs  faces 
Ne'er  paid  a  vifit  to  the  Graces : 

That,  of  cxprefjton*  he  can  never  bpg : 
Yet,  for  this  article^  hath  he  been  flutlyiug; 
Bur,  in  it,  never  could  fiirpaHj  a  pudding 

No,  gentle  reader,  net  a— puddi.:j  Wg 

I  dare  not  fay,  thnr  Mr.  Weft 

Cannot  found  criticifni  impart, 
I'm  told,  the  "man  with  tecbttieah  is  blell ; 

Thar  he  can  talk  a  -deal  upon  the  art : 
Yes,  he  can  talk — I  do  not  doubt  it— 

fct  About  //,  GoddeJ$9  and  about  /V," 

Thus,  then,  is  Mr.  Weft  deferving  praife; 

And  let  my  juflice  the  fair  te/^/atford: 
For,  lo !  this  far-fam* d  artift  cuts  both  ways, 

Exadly  like  the  Ar; .•>,<;;  Gabritfs  (\vorJ. 


L        P*        3 

The  beauties  of  the  art  his  converfe  (hows  $_ 
His  canvafs,  almoft  ey.'ry  thing  that's  bad. 

Thus,  at  th'  Academy,  we  mud  fuppofe, 
A  man  more  ufeful  never  could  be  had  ^ 

Who,  in  bimfelf,  a' ho  ft,  fo  much  can  do. 

Who  is  both  precept  ^  and  example^  too. 


ODE        V. 

Great  advice  is  giren  fo  GENTLEMEN  Authors  \  to  Mr. 
WEBB,  and  Mr.  H.  WALPOLE,  particularly  ;  PETER 
taketh  the  part  of  Lady  LUCAN  ,•  Showetb 


nowge^  in  the  Art  of  Painting  ;  Adniinijlerctb 
OIL  of  Foci,,  vulgarly  called  Pratfe,  to  the  '  Squire 
tf 


Z\ 


STRONOMERS  fliould  treat  of  ftars  and  comets  ; 
Pbyficians,  of  the  bark  and  vomits; 
Of  apoplexies,  thofe  light  troops  of  Death, 
That  ufe  no  ceremony  with  our  breath; 
Ague  and  dropfy,  jaundice  and.  catarrh, 
The  grim-look'd  Tyrant's  hetivy  horfe  of  war. 
Farriers  fhould  write  on  farcies,  and  the  glanders; 

Bug-Dodors,  only  upon  bed-diibrders  ; 
Farmers,  on  land,  ploughs,  pigs,  ducks,  geefe  and  gan 
ders  ; 

Nightmen,  alone,  on  aromatic  odours^ 
The  Artift  fliould  on  painting  folely  write; 
Like  David,  then  they  may  "  good  things  indite." 
But  when  the  mob  of  gentlemen 
Break  on  their  province,  and  take  up  the  pen, 
The  Lord  have  Mercy  on  the  art! 
I'm  fure,  their  goofe-quills  can  no  light  impart. 


[          5)3        ] 

This  wfe  be  thine.  Squire  Webb*,  it  is  thy  due 
Pray  Mr.  Horace  Walpole  f,  what  think  you  ? 

HORACE,  thou  art  a  man  of  tafte  and  fenfe  ; 
Then  don't,  of  folly,  be  at  fuch  expenfe ; 
Do  not  to  LadyLucANff  pzy  fuch  court; 
Her  wifdom  furely  will  not  thank  thee  for't ; 
Ah !  don't  endeavour  tkus  to  dupe  her, 
By  fwearing,  that  fhe  equals  COOPER  §. 

So  grofs  the  flattery,  it  feems  to  Ihow, 
That  verily  thou  doft  not  know 

The  pow'rs  requir'd,  for  copying  a  pifture, 
And  thofe,  for  copying  Dame  Nature  \ 
Alas!   a  much  more  arduous  matter, 

So  don't  expofe  thyfelf,  but  mind  my  ftricture. 

Thou'lt  fay*  it  was  mere  compliment; 
That  nothing  elfe  was  thy  intent ; 

Although  it  might  difgrace  a  boy  at  fchool. 
I  grant  the  faft;  and  think,  that  no  man 
Says  or  writes  fillier  things  to  woman  i 
But  ftill  'tis  making  each  of  you  a  fool. 

Yet  HORACE,  think  not,  that  I  write 

Through  fpite ; 

Think  not,  I  read  thy  works  with  jealous  pain ;  j 
Lord!  no:  thou  art  a  favourite  with  me, 
\  think  thee  one  of  us—un  be!  efprlt ; 

By  Heav'ns !  I  like  the  windmill  of  thy -brain; 
It  is  a  pretty  and  ingenious  "mill ; 
Long  may  it  grind  on  Strawb'ry  -Hill  S 
1 3 


*   Author  of  a  Tread fe  <~v  tvlio  feeir.s.  to  dlfphi 

more  erudition  than  fcience. 

f  A  gentleman  well  known  in  the  literary  world  ;   an  r.w..? 
•  teur  in  the  Graphic  line. 

tt  A  lady  of  prent  ingenuity  in  the  miniature  departrr e  :t, 
§  A  f'aiiious  mini-iiurc  painter,  in  ;he  time-  of  Croiuwca. 


C       P4 


0    D    E        VI. 

PETER  flill  continueth  to  give  great  Advice,  and  to  ex* 
bibit  deep  Reflexion :  He  telleth  a  miraculotis  flory* . 

1  HERE  is  a  knack,  in  doing  many  a  thing. 
Which  labour  cannot  to  perfection  bring: 
Therefore,  however  great  in  your  own  eyes, 
Pray  do  not  hints,  from  other  folks,  defpife. 

A  fool,  on  fomething  great,  at  times,  may  (tumble, 

And  confequently  be  a  good  advifer; 
On  which,  forever,  your  wife  men  may  fumble, 

And  never  be  a  whit  the  wifer. 

Yes  !  I  ^idvife  you,  (for  there's  wifdom  in't) 
Never  to  be  fuperior  to  a  hint  ; 

The  genius  of  each  man,  with  keennefs,  view— 
A  [park,  from  this,  or  t'other,  caught,  - 
May  kindle,  quick  as  thought, 

A  glorious  bonfire  up,  in  you, 

A  queftion  of  you,  let  me  beg— 

Of  fain'd  Columbus,  and  his  egg, 
Jray,   have  you  heard?—   fc  Yes." — Oh,. then  if  you:' 

pleafe, 
Fli  give  you  the  t\vo  Pilgrims  and  the  Peas. 

ne   PILGRIMS  and  the   PEAS, 

A  TRUE   STORY« 

A  BRACE  of  fmners,  for  no  good, 

Were  ordered  to  the  Virgin  Mary's  ihrine, 

Who,  at  Lorett;o,  dwelt  in  wax,  (lone,  wood ; 
•s^.;  iu  a  iair  white  wig,  luoic'ci  WoAd'roas  tin*. 


C        P5       X 

Fifty  long  miles  had  thofe  fad  rogues  to  travel, 
With  fomething  in  their  {hoes,  much  worfe  than  gravely 
In  (hort,  their  toes,  fo  gentle,  to  amufe, 
The  prieft  had  order' d  peas  into  their  ihoes ; 

A  noftnnn  famous,  in  old  Popifh  times, 
For  purifying  fouls,  that  flunk  with  crimes; 

A  fort  of,  apoftolic  fait, 

The  Popiih  parfons  for  its  pow'rs  exalt3 
For  keeping  fouls  of  finners  five et ; 
Juft  as  our  kitchen  fait  keeps  meat. 

The  knaves  fat  off  on  the  fame  day — - 
Peas  in  their  ihoes— to  go  and  pray; 

But  very  diff'rent  was  their  fpeed,  I  wot; 
One  or*  the  finners  galloped  on, 
Light  as  a  bullet  from  a  gun; 

The  other  limp'd,  as  if  he- had  been  fhot. 

ONE  faw  the  VIRGIN  foon — "  peccavT  cry'd; 
.     Had  his  foul  whitewalh'd  all  fo  clever; 
Then  home  again  he  nimbly  hy'd, 

Made  fit,  with  faints  above,  to  live  for  ever. 
In  coming  back,  however,  let  me  fay, 
He  met  his  brother  rogue,  about  half  way;' 
Hobbling,  with  outftretch'd  bum,  and%ending  knees; 
Damning  the  fouls  and  bodies  of  the  peas; 
Mis  eyes  in  tears,  his  cheeks  and  brows  in  fvveat, 
Deep  fympathizing  with  his  groaning  feet. 

"  HOY/  now  !"    the   light-toe'd,    whitewauYd  pilgrim 
broke — 

"  You  la^y  lubber! 

*'  Odds  curfe  it!"  cry'cl  the  other,  "'tis  no  joke; 
"  My  feet,  once  ha»d  as  any  rock, 

"  Are  now  as  fofc  as  blubber. 

<5  Excufe  me,  Virgin  Mary,  that  1  Avear; 
"  As  for  Loretto,  I  fliail  not  get  there; 


[        96        ] 

tt  No !  to  the  Devi  my  finful  foul  mud  £6  ;  x 
**  For  damme,  if  I  ham  loft  ev'ry  toe! 

"  But  brother  fmner,  do  explain, 

"  How  *ds,  that  you  are  not  in  pain  ; 

*4  What  Pow'r  hath  wo'rk'd  a  wonder  for  your  toe« 
Whilfi  /,  j u (I  like  a  fnail,  am  crawling, 
"  Now  f wearing,  now  on  Saints  devoutly  bawling, 

**  Whilfl  not  a  rafcai  comes,  to  enfe  my  woes  ? 

c'~  How  is't,  that  you  can,  like  a  greyhound,  go, 

**;  Merry,  ns  if  that  nought  had  happen'd,  burn  yef 
«  Why,"  cry'd  the  other,  grinning,  "  yon  mull  kno\v, 
"  That  juil  before  I  ventur'd  on  my  journey, 
"  To  w^lk  a  little  more  at  cafe, 
"  I  took  the  liberty  to  boil  my  peas/' 


ODE        VIL 
i-ETEii  grinnetb. 


OUNG  men,  be  cautious  of  each  critic  word* 
That,  blafphemous,  may  much  offence  afford — 

I  mean,  that  wounds  an  ancient  mailer's  fame  : 
At  Titian,  Guido,  Giulio,  Veronefe, 
Your  lengthening  phiz,  let  admiration  feize  ; 

And  throw  up  both  your  eyes,  at  Raphael's  name. 

E'en  by  a  print-ihop,  IhotiUl  you  cliauce  to  pafs, 
Revere  their  effigy  infide  the  glafs  ; 

Juft  as,  with  Papiftsj  the  religious  care  is 
In  churches,  lanes,  to  bend  their  marrow-bones 
The  bees'-wax  faints,  Bon  Dieux  of  ftones, 

Ana  beach,  or  ucui,  01  waini'cot  Virgin  Marys, 


[       97        ] 

What'er  their  errors,  they  no  more  remain  ; 
For  Time,  like  Fullers'  earth,  takes  out  each  ftain  ; 
Nay  more — on  faults,  that  modern  works  would  tarnifb;, 
Time  fpreads  a  f acred  coat  of  varnijb. 

Spare  not,  on  brother  artifts'  backs,  the  laih  ; 
Put  a  good  wire  in' t—  let  it  flafb  ; 

Since  ev'ry  ftroke,  with  int'reft,  is  repaid  ; 
For  though  you  cannot  kill  the  man  outright  ? 
Yet,  by  this  effort  of  your  rival  fpite, 

Fifty  to  oue3  if  you  don't  fpoil  his  trade^ 

His  ruins  may  be  feathers  for  your  neft - 

The  maxim's  not  amifs probatum  eft, 


ODE       VIII. 

The  Poet  enquires  into  the  flate  of  the  EXHIBITION— 
Lafles  Father  1  IME,  for  making  great  Geniufes,  and 
deflroying  them  —  Praifeth  REYNOLDS—  Fancies  a  ve 
ry  curious  Dialogue,  between  King  ALEXANDER  and- 
the  Deer,  the  Sub  j  eft  of  Mr.  WEST'S  pi  fture—  Turns 
to  Mr.  WEST'S 


E  LL,  Mufe  !  what  is  there  in  the  exhibition  ? 
How  thrive  the  beauties  of  the  Graphic  art  ? 
Whofe  racing  genius  feems  in  bed  condition, 
For  Glory's  plate  to  ft  art  ? 

Say,  what  fly  rogues  old  Fame  cajole  ? 
Speak—  who  hath  brib'd  her  trumpet,  or  who  ftole  ? 
For  much  is  prats'  d,  that  ought  in  fires  to  mourn  — 
Nay,  what  would  ev'n  difgrace  a  fire,  to  burn. 

What  artift  boafts  a  work  fublime, 
That  mocks  the  teet^  of  raging  Time  ? 


[        98        ] 

Old  fool!   \\bo,  after  he  hath  forni'd,  with  pains 
A  genius  rate, 
To  make  folks  flare — 
Knocks  out  his  brains  : 

Like  children,  dulls  creating,  with  high  brags  ; 
Then  tearing  all  their  handy  works  to  rags . 

Lo  !   Reynold's  ihmes  with  ttndiminiftfd  ray 

Keeps,  life  the  bird  of  JOVE,  his  diftant  way- 
Yet,  fimple  portrait  flrikes  too  oft  our  eyes  ; 
Whilft  Hfjfrs^  anxious  for  his  pencil,  fighs. 

We  don't  defire  to  fee  on  canvafs  live, 

The  copy  of  a  jowl  of  lead  ; 
When  for  th'  original  we  wou'd  not  give 

A  fmr.il  pin's  head. 

This  year,  of  picture,  Mr.  Weft 
Is  quite  a  Patagonf0n~m#ker 

He  knows,  tkat  bulk  is  not  a  jeft  ; 
So  gives  us  painting,  by  the  acre* 

But  ah  !  this  Artift's  brufli  can  never  brag, 
Upon  King  Alexander  and  the  flag  ; 

For,  as  they  play'd,  at  logger  heads,  a  rubber, 
We  furely  ought  to  fee  a  handfome  battle, 
Between'the  Monarch  and  the  Piece  of  Cattle  ; 

Whereas,  each  keeps  his'diftance,  like  a  lubber* 

His  Majefty*  upon  his  breech  laid  low, 
Seems  preaching  to  his  horned  foe  ; 
Obferving,  what  a  very  wicked  thing,  ' 
To. hurt  the  facred  perfon  of  a  King  : 

And  feems,  about  his  bufinefs,  to  intrcat  him, 
To  mai:cbi  for  fear  thV  hounds  ihould  eat  him, 
The  'Stag  appears  to  fay,  in  plaintive  note, 
^  I  own,  King  Alexander^  my  offence  : 
"  True  \  I've  not  (hown  my  loyalty,  nor  fcnfe 
**"Cb  bid  your  huuifmen  come,  and  cut  my  thxoat/ 


**  "1 

L        99        } 

The  cavalry,  adorn'd  with  fdr  ftone  bodies* 
Seem  on  the  dialogue,  with  wonder,  flaring  ; 

And  on  their  flinty  backs,  a  fee  of  Noddies, 
Not  one  brafs  farthing  for  their  Mafler  car.  Ing, 

•Behold!  one  fellow  lifts  his  mighty  fpear, 
To  fave  the  owner  of  the  Scottiih  Crown  ; 

Which,  harmlefs  hanging  o'er  -the  gaping  deer, 
Seems  in  no  mighty  hurry  to  come  down, 

Another,  on  a  Pegafus*  comes  flying  — 
His  phiz,  his  errand  much  belying: 
For  if  he  means  to  bafte  the  beafl  fo  cruel, 
God  knows,  \is  with  a  face  of  water-gruel* 

So  then,  fweet  Mufe,  the  picture  boafts  no  merit- 
As  flat  as  difti-water,  or  dead  fmall-beer  — 
Or—  (what  the  mark  is  tolerably  near)— 

As  heads  of  Aldermen,  devoid  of  fpirit. 

Well,  then  !  turn  round—  view  t'other  fide  the  room, 
And  fee  his  SAVIOUR  mounting  from  the  tomb  : 
Is  this  piece,  too  —  with  painting-fins  fo  cramm'd  — 
Born  to  iqcreafe  the  number  of  \ 


My  fentiments  by  no  means  I  refufe — 
Was  our  Redeemer  like  the  wretched  thing* 

I  do  not  wonder,  that  the  cunning  Jews 
Scorn'd  to  acknowledge  him  for  KING. 


O    D    E        IX. 

PETER  Moral!  feth*  and  givetb  good  Advice. 

iVY  and  Jealoufy*  that  pair  of  devils, 
nufPd,  like  Pandora's  box*  with  wond'rous  evils, 
[hate,  abhor,  abominate,  deteft; 
Like  CV'/w,  turning  man  into  2.  beafl. 


ON 


[        too       3 

Beneath  'their  cank'ring  breath  no  bud  can  blow5 
Their  black'ning  pow'r  refembles  fmut  in  corn, 
Which  kills  the  fifing  ears,  that  fnould  adorn,, 

And  bid  the  vales  with  golden  plenty  glow* 

Yet, fierce  in  yonder  dome  each  demon  reigns; 
Their  poifon  fwells  too  many  an  artiil's  veins ; 
Draws  from  each  laboring  heart  the  fearful  figh, 
And  cafts  a  fuilen,  gloom  on  ev'ry  eye. 

•  Brujhmen !  accept  the  council,  Pe'ter  fends, 

Who  fcorns  th'  acquaintance  of  th!o  brace  of  fiends? 

Should  any,  with  uncommon  talent i  tow'r; 
To  any,  \sfuperior  fdence  giv'n 

Oh,  let  the  weaker  feel  their  bat>py  pow'r, 
Like  plants,  that  triumph  in  the  dews  of  Heav'n, 

Be  pleas'd,  like  'Reynolds,  to  direfl  the  blind; 

Who  aids  the  feeble  fault'ring  feet  of  youth; 
Unfol ,1s  the  ample  volume  of  his  mind, 

With  genius  itor'd  and  Nature"**  fimple  truth. 

"Who,  though  a  Sun,  refembles  not  his  brother, 
Whofe  beams,  fo  full  of  jealoufy,  confpire, 

Whene'er  admitted  to  the  room to  [mother 

The  humble  kitchen,  or  the  parlour  fire. 


O    D    E        X. 

figuratively-- Accomwodateth  himfelf  ti 
vulgar  Readers— Lajbeth  Pretenders  to  Fame—Con^ 
cludeth  merrily* 


A 


MODEST  love  of  pmife  I  do  not  blame- 
But  I  abhor  a  Rape  on  Miftrefs  Fame,-- 
Although  the  Lady  is  exceeding  chafte, 
Young  forward  bullies  feize  her  round  the  waiil; 


'Swear,  nolens  volens,   tlrar  the  fir 

And  though  (he  vows  -fhe  -does  < 

•Nay,  threatens,  for  their  in?;" 
The  fancy  rafcals  (till  perfift. 

Reader!—  of  images,  here's  no  confaf- 

Thou  therefore  underftancUft  the  Bard's  allufion; 

But  poilibly,  thou  haft  a  tbickijk  hea-d\ 

And  therefore  no  vaft  quantity  of  brain-  •- 
Why  then,  my  precious  Pig  of  Lead^ 

'Tis  neceffary  to  explain  . 

Some  Artifti  if  I  fo  may  call  'em, 

So  ignorant  (the  Foul  Fiend  maul  'em  1) 

Mere  driv'iers  in  the  charming  art: 

Are  vailly  fond  of  being  praised, 

Wifh  to  the  liars,  like  Blanchard*,  to  be  ryi^ 
And  raifd  they  tliould  be,  reader—  from  a  cart. 

If  difappointed  in  fome  Sfwtor's  tongue, 
Upon  tbemfelvcs  they  pour  forth  profe  or  fong  ; 

Or  buy  it  in  fome  venal  paper, 

And  then  heroically  vapour. 


*  to  immortality  afpire, 
Who  (lick  their  trafh  round  the  room!— 
Trajb  meriting  a  very  different  doom,---  • 
I  mean  the  warmer  regions  of  the  fire,, 

Heav'n  knows,  that  I  am  anger'd  to  the  foul* 
To  find  fome  blockheads  of  their  works  fo  vain 

So  proud,  to  fee  them  hanging  cheek  by  jowl, 
With  his  |5  whofe  pow'rs  the  Art's  high  fame 

To  wond'rous  merit  their  pretenfion, 
3n  fuch  vicinity—  fufpenfion  — 
frings  to  my  mind  a  not  unpleafant  flory, 
iVhich,  gentle  readers,  let  me  lay  before  yc  : 
K. 


famous  Aeronaut,       f  The  PreQdcnc, 


[  102          ] 

A  jba'bby  fellow  chanc'd,  one  day,  to  meet 
The  Britifh  Rofcius  in  the  ftreet, 

Gat-rick,  of  whom  our  nation  juftly  brags — 
The  fellow  hugg'd  him,  with  a  kind  embrace— 
"  Good  Sir,  I  do  not  recollefl  your  face," 

Quoth  Garrick — "  No?"  reply'd  the  man  of  rags. 

*•  The  boards  of  Dairy  you  and  I  bare  trod, 
"  Full  many  a  time,  together,  I  am  fure — 
"  When  ?"  with  an  oath,  cried  GARRICK — "  for,  by  G- 
"  I  never  faw  that  face  of  yours  before ! 

"  What  Characters,  I  pray, 

"  Did  you  and  I  together  play  ?" 

"  Lord !"  quoth  the  fellow,  "  think  not  that  I  mock— 
"  When  you  playd  Hamlet,  Sir,— I  play"  d  the  Cock*? 


O    D    E       XL 

PETER  talketb  fenfibly,  and  knowingly  ,•  Recommended 
it  to  ARTISTS  to  prefer  Pi  ftures  for  tbeir  Merit;  Dip- 
cover  eth  mufical  Knowledge,  anafoeweth,  that  be  not 
only  bath  kept  Company  witb  Fiddlers,  but  Fiddle* 
makers  ,•  He  fatirizetb  tbe  Pfendo-Cognofcenti  ,• 
Praifetb  bis  ingenious  Neighbour  SIR 


not  imposM  on  by  a  name : 
But  bid  your  eye  the  picture's  merit  trace  $ 
Pouffin,  at  times,  in  outline  may  be  lame, 
And  Guide's  angels  deflitute  of  grace. 

*  In  the  Ghoft  Scene. 


C      i°3     J 

Yet  lo !  a  picture  of  fome  famous  .fchool— 
A  warranted  old  Daub,  of  reputation, 

(Where  charming  painting's  aim  oft  ev'ry  rule 
Hath  fuiTred  almoft  ev^ry  violation*) 

Oft  hath  been  gaz'd  at,  by  devouring  eyes, 

AVhen  Nature,  bant  ft?  d    from  the  picture,  fighs. 

So  fbme  old  Dutchefs,  as  a  badger,  grey, 

(Her  fnags  by  Time,  lure  Dentift,  fnatcbt  a\vaf) 

With  long,  lank,  flannel  cheeks — 
Where  Age,  in  ev'ry  wrinkled  feature, 
Unto  the  poor,  weak,  fliaking  creature, 

Of  death,  unwelcome  tidings  fpeaks — 
Draws  from  the  gaping  mob  the  envying  look., 
Becaufe  her  owner  chanc'd  to  be  a  Duke. 

How  many  pafteboard  rocks  and  iron  feas : 

How  many  torrents  mld^  of  ftill  ft  one  water: 
How  many  brooms  and  broomftitks  meant  for  trees, 
(Becaufe  tint  fancy* d  labors  of  Salvator*, 
Whofe  pencil,  too,  nioft  grofsly  may  have  blunder' d) 
Have  brought  the  blell  poiTefTor  many  a  hundred!— 

Thus  prove  a  mwVf,  a  Stainerft?  or  Amati  §  ; 

No  Matter  for  the  fiddle's  found', 
The  fortunate  poffefTor  fliall  not  bate  ye 

A  doit,  of  fifty,  nay  a  hundred  pound: 
And  though,  what's  vulgarly  baptiz'd  a  rep, 
Shall  in  a  hundred  pounds  be  deem'd  dog  cheap. 

It  tickles  one  exceflively,  to  hear 
Wife,  prating  pedants  the  old  mafters  praife. 

Damning  by  wholefale,  with  farcailic  fneer, 
The  wretched  works  of  modern  days ; 

Making  at  living  wight  fuch  fatal  puihes, 

As  if  not  good  enough,  to  wipe  their  b riffles. 


*  Salvator  Rofa.  t  A  Fiddle. 

ft  A  German  Fiddle-Maker. 

§A  maker  of  fiddles,  Ciillcd.CremoEos. 


C      104      ] 

And  yet  on  each  wife  cognofente  afs, 

Who  fhail,  four  hours,  on  paint  and  fculpttire  din  ye, 
A  perfon,  with  facility,  may  pafs 

Rigaud  for  Raphael — Bacon  for  Bernini; 
Or— -little  as  an  oven  to  Vefuvius, — 
Will  Tyler,  for  PalJadio  or  Vitruvius ! 

One  would  imagine,  by  the  mad'ning  fools,  . 
Who  talk  of  nothing  but  the  ancient  fchoolv 

And  vilify  the  works  of  modern  brains, 
They  think  poor  Mother  Nature Y  art  is  fled; 
That  now  {he  cannot  make  a  head, 

Who  took  with  old  Italian  nobs  fuch  pains ; 
Kay  to  a  driv'ler  turn'd,  her  pow'r  fo  funk  is, 
Tame  foul !  that  nothing'  now  Ihe  makes,  but  monkies; 

"Look  at  your  fav'riee  Reynolds,"  is  their  (train— 
"  Allow'd,:  by  all,  the  firft  in  Europe's  eye; 

"  One  atom  of  repute  can  Reynolds  gain, 
"When  Titian,  Reubens,  and  Vandike,  are  nigh?" 

44  Can  Reynolds  live,  near  Raphael's  matchlefs  line?" 
Yes,  biinkards!  and  with  equal  lufire  Ihinel 


O    D    E 


ittcreafeth  in  H7ifdom^  and  advifeth  wifely-—- 
Seemetb  angry  at  ibi  illiberally  of  Nature  in  tk# 
Affair  of  bis  good    Acquaintance,  the  LORD    HIGH  • 
CHANCELLOR  of  ENGLAND,  and  Mr.  PEPPER  ARDEN--- 
FILTER  Trcatetb  bis  Headers  with  Love-Ferfcs  ^/paft- 
Times. 


^          not  Nature's  form  too  clofety, 
Whene'er  ihe  treats  your  Sitter  grofsly: 
r'or  when  fne  gives  deformity  for  grace,- 
Pray  Ihow  a  little  mercy  on  the  face. 
Indeed  'twould  be  but  charity  to  flatter 
SDIQG  dreadfuV  works  of  feouiing  cluiukcn  Nature*-* 


[        "5        ] 

As,  for  example,— let  us  now  fuppofe 
Thurlow's  black  fcowl,  and  Pepper  Arden's  nofe : 
But  when  your  pencil's  pow'rs  are  bid  to  trace 
The  (miles  of  Devonihire—Duncannon's  grace — 
To  bid  the  blufli  of  beauteous  Campbell  rife, 
And  wake  the  radiance  of  Augufta's  *  eyes,— 
£Gad!  Mufe,  thou  art  beginning  to  grow  loyal)— 
And  paint  the  graces  of  the  Princefs  Royal ; 
Try  all  your  art— and  wben  your  toils  are  done, 
You  (how  a  flimfy  meteor  for  a  Sim* 

Or  Ihould  her  skill  attempt  her  face  and  air, 
Who  fir'd  my  heart  and  fix'd  my  roving  eye — 

The  LOVES,  who  robfrd  a  world^  to  make  her  fair9 
Would  quickly  triumph,  and  your  art  defy." 

Sweet  Nymph !  but,  reader  take  the  fong, 
Which  Cynthia's  charm  alone  infpir'd: 

That  left,  of  yore,  the  poet's  tongue, 
When  Love  his  raptur'd  fancy  fir'd. 


S        O        N        G. 

FROM  ber9  alas !  whofe  fmile  was  love, 
I  wander  to  fome  lonely  cell : 

My  fighs  too  weak  the  maid  to  move, 
I  bid  the  flatt'rer,  Hope,  farewell. 

Be  all  her  Siren  arts  forgot, 
That  fili'd  my  bofom  with  alarms : 

Ah  !  let  her  crime— a  little  jfotit9 
Be  loll  ainidft  her  blaze  of  charms. 

As  on  I  wander,  flow,  my  fighs, 
At  ev'ry  ftep,  for  Cynthia  mourn ! 

My  anxious  heart  within  me  dies, 
And  finking,  whifpers,  "  Oh!  return." 


*  Second  daughter,  of  the  King  of  England. 


5efod*  •  fieai  !  v  Vnow  •- 

t\<  v  2  ih-  *atsi  Bame^ 

j$V  ;•  -;oe; 

And  only  flutter  2r  Lcr  UrtiLC, 

'  kader$J  1  own.  the  fon£  of  lo^-?  '<  f\v\-:t'. 
iMoft  pleafing  to  the  Ibul  of  gc^ie  Pc-rt: 
eyes  then,  with  another  jet  me  tfd  t, 
Oh,  gentle  Sirs,  and  in  the  lame  fweet  n 


SO  N  G    TO     DELI  A, 


SAY,  lonely  Maid,  with  downcaft  eye -• 

O  Delia?"  fay,  .with -checks- fo  pale, 
What  gives  thy  heart  the  lengthen'dfigh, 
That  tells  the  world  a  mournful  tale? 

Thy  tears,  that  thus  each  other  chafe, 
Befpeak  a  bofora  fweli'd  with  woe ; 

Thy.  figlis,  a  florin  -that  wrecks  thy  peace, 
Which  fouls,  like  thine,  Ihould  never  know. 

Oh  !  tell  me,  doth- fome  favoured  youth, 

h  virtue  tir'd,  thy  beauty  flight; 
And  leave  thofe  thrones  of  love  and  truth. 
That  lip,  and  bofom  of  delight? 

pe  -'..ips  to  Nymphs  of  other  ihade^, 
He  feigns  the  foft,  impaffion'd  tear; 

\\\:.':\  fbngs  their  caly  faith  invades, 
That  dreach'rous  won  thy  witlefs  ear, 

Let  not  thofj  MaKis  thy  envy  move, 

For  wh-vMii  hir.  heart  may  feern-to  pine 

Tlfat  becrt  can  ne'er  be  biefl  by  love, 
Whofe  &ii!t  could  ibrce  a  pang  from  tline. 


CD    E       XIII; 


PETER  acknowledgetb  great  Obligations  to  the 
Reverend  Mr.  MARTIN  LUTHER—  Tet  lament  eth  the 
Effefts  of  this  Par  fan's  Reformation,  on  Painting. 


W 

W' 


E  Proteftants  owe  much  to  Martin  Luther, 
Who  found,,  to  I!eav"n,  *  Jhorter  way  and  finoother  ; 

And  fhall  not  foon  repay  the  obligation  : 
Martin,  again!!  the  PapMls,  got  the  laugh  ; 
Who,  as  the.  butchers  bleed  and  bang  a  calf 

To  whiten  efs—  bled  and  bang'd  unto  falvation  : 
As  if  fuch  drubbings  could  expel  their  (ins  ; 

As  if  that  Pow'r,  whofe  works,  with  awe,  we  view, 
Grr.c-'d  all  our  backs  with  fets  of  comely  skins, 

Then  order'd  us  to  beat  them  black  and  blue. 

Y/ell  then  !  we  tnufl  confefs,  for  certain, 
That  much  we  owe  to  Mr.  Martin, 

VLo  alter'  d  for  the  better,  our  religion  — 
Vet,  by  it,  glorious  Painting  much  did  lofe-— 
Was  pluck'd,  poor  Goddefs  !  like  a  gooje  ; 

Or,  for  the  rhyme-lake,  like  a  pigeon. 

Mad  at  the  Whore  of  Babylon,  and  Bull, 
Down  from  the  churches  men  began  to  pull 
Pictures,  that  long  had  held  a  lofty  fhuion~~ 
Pi&ures  of  Saints,  of  pious  reputation, 

For  curing,  by  a  miracle,  the  ills, 
That,  now  fo  dubborn  yield  not  to  devotions, 
But  unio  biifter$9  boliij]\^^  and  potions^ 

That  make  fuch  handfome  Apothecaries'  bills, 


[         io8         ] 

Down  tumbled  Anthony,  who  preach'd  to  Sprats  : 
And  he  *  who  held  difdourfes  with  a  Hog, 
That,  grunting,  after  him  fo  us'd  to  jog  ; 

Came  down,  by  favour  of  long  Hicks  and  bats. 

The  Saints  who  grin'd  on  fpits,  like  ven'fon  roafting, 
Broiling  on  gridir'ns  —  Baking  in  an  oven  ; 

Or  on  a  fork,  like  cheefe  of  Cheihire,  loading  ; 
Or  kicked  to  death,  by  Satan's  hoof  fo  cloven  ; 

All  humbled  to  the  ground  ware  forc'd  to  fall  — 

SfitSy  forks  and  gridirons  ,  ovens,  devil,  and  alL 

Ev'n  Saints  of  poor  Old  England's  breeding, 
In  wonders  many  foreign  ones  exceeding, 

Our  hot  Reformers  did  as  roughly  handle  :• 
In  troth,  poor  harmlefs  fouls  !  they  met  no  quarter  5 
But  down  were  tumbled,  Miracle  and  Martyr  ; 

Put  up  in  lofty  &nd/b/d  by  inch  of  candle. 

Had  we  been  papifts—  Lord  !  we  ftill  had  feen 
Devils  and  Devil's  mates,  young  pimping  liars, 

Tempting  the  blueing  Nuns  of  frail  fifteen, 
With  gangs  of  ogling,  rofy,  wanton  Friars  : 
Which  Nuns  fo  pure,  no'love-fpeech  could  cajole™ 
Who  ftarv^d  the  body,  to  preferve  the  foul. 


Then  had  we  feeii  St.  Dennis,  with  bis         ^ 
Freih  in  his  hand,  and  with  affection,  kiffing  ; 

As  if  the  nob,  that  from  his  ihculders  fied, 

By  knife  or  broad-fword,  never  had  been  miffing  ; 

Then  hacT  vve  feen,  upon  their  friendly  coating, 

Saints  on  the  waves,  like  gulls  und  wigeons,  floating* 

I've  feen  a  Saint,  on  board  a  flip 
To  whom,  for  a  fair  wind,  the  Papifts  pray, 
Well  flogged  from  ft  em  to  ftern^  by  birch  and 
Poor  wooden  fellow  !  twenty  times  a  day  : 


*  Commonly  known  by  the  name  of  PIG  ANTHONY. 


Puird  by  the  nofe,  anl  kicked—  call'd  lubber,  owV 
To  make  him  turn  a  wind,  to  fair  from  foul  ! 
And  often  this  has  brought  a  profp'rous  gale, 
When  pr0£n—#nd  cur  fa™  have  been  found  to  fail* 
This,  had  we  Papids  been,  had  grac'd  our  churches, 
Saints,  feamen,  nofe-  pull  ing,  kicks,  whips,  and  birches, 


ODE,        XIV* 
PETER,  attaeketb  the  Exotic  R.  A.'s, 


E  Royal  Sirs,  before  1  bid  adieu, 
Let  me  inform  you,  fowe  deferve  my  praife  ? 
But  truft  me,  gentle  Squires,  ye  are  but  few, 
Whofe -names  would  not  difgrace  my  lays. 

You'll  fay,  with  grinning,  (harp,  farcaftic  face,- 
V/e  muft  be  bad  indeed,  if  that's  the  cafe— 

Why?  if  the  truth  I  mult  declare, 
So,  gentle  fquires,  you  really  are  ! 

I'm  greatly  plcss'd,  I  mud  alloxv, 

To  fee  the  foreigners  beat  hollow  ; 
Who  dole  into  their  dome — the  Lord  knows  how- 

(I  hope  to  God,  no  more  will  follow) 
Who,  curs' d  with  a  poor  fniv'ling  fpirit, 
Were  never  known  to  vote  for  merit—- 

Poor  narrow-minded  imps. 
Hanging  together,  jud  like  Ihrimps. 
I  own,  (fb  little  they  have  merited) 

That  from  yon  noble  dome, 

Made  a-linod  an  Italian  and  French  homo, 
I  long  to  fee  the  vermin  ferreted, 


[        no       ] 

Yet  vvhere's  the  houfe,  however  watch'd  by  cats, 

That  can  get  rid  of  all  its  rats  ? 

Or— if  a  prettier  fhnile  may  pleafe — 

Where  is  the  bed,  that  hath  not  fleas? 

Or  if  a  prettier  flill — what  London  rugs 

Have  not,  at  times,  been  vifited  by  bugs  ? 


OD    E        XV. 


PETER  taketb  Leave— Li fplayeth  wonderful  Learning-^ 
Seemeth  forry  to  part  with  his  Readers — Adminlft-er- 
etl  Crumbs  of  Comfort. 


LY  deareft  readers  !  'tis  with  grief  I  tell, 

That  now,  for  ever,  I  muft  bid  farewell ! 

Glad,  if  an  ode  of  mine  with  grins,  can  treat  ye  ?. 

!'ralcte  ! 
And  if  you  like,- the  Lyric -Peter's  oddity  ; 

Plaudite  ! 

Rich,  as  a  Jew,  am  Tin  La t ion  lore — 
So,  claific  readers,  take  a  fentence  more  : 
pulcbruni  eft,  digito  mow  fir  art,  et  dicier  "  Hie  eft  /'* 

Si.ys  Juvenal'.,  who  lov'd  a  bit  of  fame — 
In  EngHih-f-Ah  !  'tis  f;veet,  among  the  thickeft 

To  b'e  found  out,  and  pointed  at  by  name. 

To  hear  the  Jlrinking  great  exclaim,  "  Thafs  Peter, 
-  Who  makes  much  immortality  by  metre  ; 
^  Who  nobly  dares  indulge  the  tuneful  whim, 
fci  And  cares  no  more  for  Kings,  than  Kings  for  him." 


C      in      3 

Yet  one  word  more,  before  we  part — 
Should  any  take  it  grievoufly  to  heart ; 
Look  melancholy,  pale,  and  wan,  and  thin. 
Like  a  poor  pulfet,  that  hath  eat  a  pin; 
Put  on  a  poor,  defponding  face,  and  pine, 
Becaufe  that  Peter,  the  divine, 

Refolves  to  give  up  Painting  Odes ; 

By  all  the  rhyming  Goddefles  and  Gods, 
I  here,  upon  a  poet's  word,  protefl, 
That,  if  it  is  the  world's  requeft, 

That  I  again  in  Lyric  fhould  appear; 
Lo!  rather  than  be  guilty  of  the  fin 
Of  lofing  George  the  Third  one  fubje&'s  skin, 

My  Lyric  Bagpipe  lhall  be  tun' d  next  year. 


T    H 


O    U    S     I    A    D. 

AN 

II  E  R  O  I-C.O  MIC      P  Q  E  M. 
CANTO      I. 


Prima  Syracofip,  dignata  eft  ludere  vcrfu 
Noftra,  nee  eriibuit  .  filvas  habirnre  Thalia. 
Cum  canerem  Regcs  et  I'relia,  Cyathyus  Aureal 
Vellit  et  admonuic  ----- 


I,  who  fo  lately  in  my  Ivric  Lays, 

Sang  f>  the  Priiife  and-  Glory  of  R—  A—  •  s-; 

And  fweerly  tun'd  to  Love  the  melting  Line, 

With  Ovi^s  Art,  and  Sappho's  War-nth  divine  ; 

Said  (nobly  daring  !)  u  MUSE,  exalt  thy  Wings, 

*'  Love,  and  the  SONS  OF  CANVASS,  quit,  for  K—  -GS." 

APOLLO,  laughing  at  my  Pow'rs  of  Song, 

Cry'd,  w  PETER  PINDAR,  prithee  hold  thy  Tongue." 

But  I,  like  Ptet;,  felff  efficient  £rowz, 

KeplyM,  "  APOLLO,  prithee  hold  thy  *w»." 


T   O     THE     READER. 


GENTLE  READER, 

J_  T  is  neceflary  to  inform  thee,  that  his  M -y 

actually  difcovered,  fome  time  ago,  as  he  fat  at  table,  a 
LOUSE  on  his  plate.  The  emotion,  occafioned  by  the 
unexpeaed  appearance  of  fucb  a  gueft,  am  be  better 
imagined^  than  defcribed. 

AN  edift  was,  in  cenfequence,  patted,  for  {having  the 
Cooks  and  Scullions,  and  the  unfortunate  Loufe  con 
demned  to  DIE. 

SUCH  is  the  foundation  of  the  LOUSIAD. with  what 

degree  of  merit  the  Poem  is  executed,  the  uncritical^ 
as  well  as  the  critical  Reader,  will  decide. 

THE  ingenious  AUTHOR,  who  ought  to  be  allowed  to 
know  fomewbat  of  the  matter,  hath  been  beard  pri 
vately  to  declare,  that,  in  his  opinion,  the  Batrachomy- 
omachia  of  Homer,  the  Recchla  Rap  ha  of  TniToni,  the 
Lutrin  of  Boileau,  the  Difpenfary  of  Garth,  and  the 
Rape  of  the  Lock  of  Pope,  are  not  to  be  compared  to 
it — and  to  exclaim  at  the  fame  time,  with  .all  fazmodejl 
affurance  of  an  AUTHOR — 

Cedite,  Roman!  fcriptores  ;  cedite,  Graii — 
Nil  ortum  in  terris,  Lonfiada  melius. 

Which,  for  the  fake  of  the  mere  'Englilh  Reader,  is 
thus  beautifully  tranfiated? 


Roman  and  Grecian  Authors,  great  and 
The  Author  of  the  LOUSIAD  beats  you  ALL. 


T    11    E 


L     O      U     S     I     A     D, 


CANTO 


HE  LOUSE  1  fing,  that  from  fome  head  unknown, 
Yet  born  and  educated  near  a  throne, 
Dropp'd  down— (Co  willM  the  dread  decrees  of  Fate,) 

With  legs  wide  fprawling,  on  the  M ch's  plate  ; 

Far  from  the  raptures  of  a  WIFE'S  embrace  ; 
Far  from  the  gambols  of  a  tender  RACE, 
Whofe  little  feet  he  taught,  with  care,  to  tread, 
Amidft  the  wide  dominions  of  the  head  ; 
Led  them  to  daily  food,  with  fond  delight, 
And  taught  the  tiny  travelers,  where  to  bite. 
To  hide,  to  run,  advance,  or  turn  their  tails, 
When  hoftile  combs  attack'd,  or  vengeful  nails  : 
Far  from  thofe  pleafing  fcenes,  ordain' d  to  roam, 
Like  wife  Ulyfles,  from  his  native  home  ; 
Yet,  like  that  SAGE,  tho'  forc'd  to  roam  and  mourn- 
Like  bim^  alas  !  not  fated  to  return  : 
Who,  full  of  rags  and  glory,  faw  his  Boy  * 
And  f  WIFE  again,  and  DOG  §  that  dy'd  for  joy. 
Down  dropp'd  the  lucklcfs  LOUSE,  with  fear  appdliM, 
And  wept  his  wife  and  children,  as  he  fprawl'd. 

*  Telemachii?,.  I  Pcnetop*, 

§  Argus,  for  whofe  hiftory,  fee  the  Odyfily, 


C     "<s     I 

s,  on  a  promontory's  mifty  brow, 
The  POET'S  eye,  wich  forovv,  iaw  a  Cow 
Take  leave  abrupt  of  bullocks,  goats,  and  ftieepj 
By  uiiTibiing  headlong  down  the  dizzy  deep  ; 
No  more  to  rei^n  a  Queen  among  the  cattle, 
And  urge  her  rival  beaux,  the  bulls,  to  battle  ; 
She  fell,  remembering  ev'ry  roaring  lover,  § 
With  all  her  wild  cou-rauts  in  fields  of  clover. 
Now  on  his  legs,  amidft  a  thousand  woes, 
The  L'MJSE,  with  judge-like  gravity,  arofe  : 
He  willed  not  a  motive  to  intreat  him, 
Bejidc.  rhe  lorror^  thai  the  K****  might  eat  him — 
The  dread  of  gafping  on  the  fatal  fork, 
Stuck  with  a  piece  of  mutton,  beef,  or  pork  ; 
Or  drowning  'niidil  the  fauce,  in  difmal  dumps, 
Was  full  enough  to  make  him  flir  his  (lumps. 
Vai:-j  hop.  !  of  Healing  un perceived  away  I 
IK  .m.<;;ht  as  \vell  have  tarry'd,  where  he  lay. 

\  was  this  LOUSE,  as  with  the  Royal  brood, 
Our  hungry  K****  nmusM  himfelf  with  food  ; 
Which  u  "''  fearce  believ'd  by  one  in  ten) 

Tliajc  .  /petites,  Mke  common  men  ; 

And  ehfir,  like  Loiidon  Aldermen  and  Mayor, 
They  feed  on  moire  fubirantial  (luff,  than  air. 
Painr,  heciv'nly  Mufe,  the  look,  the  very  look, 

That  of  the  S n's  face,  poifeffion  took, 

When  fivft  he  frr.v  the  LOUSE,  in  folemn  Hate,. 
Or-ive  us  a  Kpanlnr^,  march  ncrofs  the  plate  I 
Yet,  could  a  "LOUSE  a  Britifli  King  furprize, 
And,  HV-e  a  pair  of  fauccrs,  ftretch  Ms  eyes  ? 
the  liule  tenai  Aortal  HEAD, 

^irake  the  F.ER  of  tbr^e  realms  with  DREAD  ? 

Good  Lord  i  G\s  Sofeebody  fublimely  fings,) 
Wh:\t  Great  c&tls  nrifc  from  little  things  ! 
M  many  a  loving  fwain  r.nd  nymph  can  tell, 
\\}}Q,  foH'\ving  Nature's  law,  have  lov'd  too  well  I 

Nc  T  with  more  horror,  did  his  eyes  behold 
Charles  Fox,  that  cunning  enemy  of  old, 


Duiccs  moriens  reminifcitur  Argos, 


C         "7        J 

When  Triumph  hung  upon  his  plotting  brains 
And  dear  PREROGATIVE  was  juft  in  chains ; 
Not  w rfh  more  horror^  did  his  eye-bulls  work, 
Convulfive,  on  the  patriotic  Burke, 
When  guilty  of  ceconomy,  the  criwe  I 
Edmund  wide  wander7  d  from  the  true  ///,';//,</;  j, 
And,  cat-like,  watchful  of  the  iicili  and  ii;h, 
Cribb'd  from  the  R-y-1  table  many  -a  diili— 
Saw  ev'ry  ilice  of  bread  _and  butter  cut, 
Each  apple  told,  and  number' d  ev'ry  nut  ; 
And  gaug'd  (compos* d  upon  no  fneaking  fcale) 
The  Monarch's  belly,  like  a  cask  of  ale  : 
Convinced  that,  in  his  icheme  of  ftate-ialva'tion, 
To  *  (larve  the  palace,  was  to  fave  the  natioa  : 
Not  more  agnail  he  iook'd,  when  'midft  the  courfe, 
He  tumbled,  in  a  flag-chafe,  from  his  horie, 

Where  all  his  nobles  deem'd  their  M -ch  dead, 

But  luckily  he. pitch' d  upon  his  head  I 

NOT  ven'fon-eaters,  at  the  vanifn'd  fat, 
With  ftomachs  wider  than  a  Quaker's  hat  r 
Not  with  more  horror,  Mr.  Serjeant  Pliant 
Looks  down  upon  an  empty-handed  client  : 
Not  with  more  horror,  Hares  the  rural  maid, 
By  hopes,  by  fortune-telle's,  dreams,  betrnyM, 
Who  fees  her  ticket  a  dire  blank  arife, 
Too  fondly  thought  the  twenty  thoufand  priz?, 
With  which  the  fimple  damfel  meant,  no  doubt, 
To  blefs  her  faithful  fav'rite,  Colin  Clout. 

NOT  with  more  horror,  (lares  each  lengthened  feature, 
Of  fome  fine  fluttering,  mincing  Petit-maifre^ 
When  of  a  wanton  chimrfey-fweeplng  wag, 
The  Beau's  white  vellment  feels  the  Vo-oty  bag  : 

*   His  M y  was  really  reduced,  fomc  time  fince,  to  a 

moil  mortifying  dilemma  ;  the  apples  at  dinner-time  having 
been,  by  too  great  a  liberality  to  the  royal  children,  expended^ 
the  K---g  ordered  a  fupply;  but  was  intjprmed,that  the  BOARD 
OF  GilEEN  CLOTH  would  pofitively  allow  no  more.  Enraged  at 
the  unexpected  and  unroyal  difuppoinunent,  he  furiouily  pa: 
his  hand  in  his  pocket,  took  out  fixpence,  {but  a  PAGE  for  two 
pennyworth  of  pippins,  and  received  the  tbavge. 


[     fig     ] 

Not  with  more  horror,  did  th«  Devil  look, 
When  Dunfhin,  by  the  nofe,  the  demon  took, 
(As  gravely  fay  our  legendary  fongs) 
And  led  him  with  a  pair  of  red-hot  tongs  ; 
Not  Lady  Worfley,  chafte  as  many  a  nun, 
Look'd  with  more  horror  at  Sir  Richard's  fun* 
When  rais'd  on  high,  to  view  her  naked  charai^ 
He  held  the  peeping  Captain  in  his  arms  ; 
Like  David,,  that  mod  am'rous  little  dragon, 
Ogling  fweet  BatU&eba,  without  a  rag  on, 

NOT  more  the  great  *  Sam  Houfe,  with  horror  fhr'd, 
By  m;~o  affronted  to  the  very  beard  ; 
v/hofe  impudence  (enough  to  damn  a  jail) 
Smitch'd  irom  his  waving  hand  his  Fox's  tai!, 
'd  ir,  'midft  his  thunders  of  appiaufe, 
in  the  centre  of  Sam's  gaping  jaws, 
Thai  forcing  down  his  patriotic  throat, 
Of  Fox  and  Freedom,  flopped  the  glorious  note. 

NOT  v,  ith  more  horror,  Billy  Ramus  f  fhf  d, 
Y/hon  ?i.-ff,  §  the  P-  -ce's  hair-drefTer,  appeafd, 
Amidf:  their  eating-room,  with  dread  defign, 
To  fk  ivith  Pares,  and  with  Pages  dine  ! 
Not  with  ihcre  horror,  Glower's  Du: chefs  flai^d, 
V/hen  (bled  in  Metaphor!)  the  K—  g  declarV, 
That  norwf  all  her  mongrel-breed,   one  whe!f9 
Should  in  the  royal  kennel  everyr^v 

*  InWeftminlfter-Halli  where  the  fenfe(ikc  Author  was  .fuft 
about  to  fay  nonfenfe)  of  the  people  was  to  be  taken  on  an  e- 

ieftUon. 

-\  Billy  FCUTUTS — emphatically  and  conftomly  called  by  hit 
jvT y  n-iiy  R^n-i's— one  of  the  pages,  who  (haves  the  S nr 

airs  'p!s  ihii-t,  rcado  to  him',  writes  icr  him,  and  collects  anec- 
dotes. 

£  ?ulf,  his  H-'-.i  '-^-hrie^s'  h.^'r-drefier,  who,  attending  him 

r.t   ',V-:u'!Vr,   the   ?---cc,  witii    h'.s  ufir^  goo '-•nature,  ordered 

PACES.     The  pride  of  the  Pages  immedi- 

jitely  took  lire,  ind  a  petition  was  difpacched  to  the  K— —  and 

T— -rr.  -••  'ed  froni  the  diftrcfsfiil  circumftarsce  of'di- 

-:r..      The  petition  was  treated   with  the 

ft,  .iivl   t'ie   Faces'  co.nm:indcci   to   receive  Mr.- 

n;efs,Qr  quit  ibc  taftle,    \  e  raor- 

e  the 
;    v  ,  ..  ;d  i.:p  their 


t          "9        J 

more,  that  man  fo  fweer,  fo  unprepar'c?, 
The  ger?:fe  Fquire  of  *  Leatherhead,  was  fcar'cf, 
Whon  alter  prsy'rs  fo  good,  and  rare  a  fermon, 
lie  found  his  Front  attacked  by  Harriet  Vernon  t 
Who  meant  ('1  haleftj-is-Iike,  c'ifdaining  fear!) 
To  pour  'ller  foot,  in-  thunder  on  his  refir  ; 
Who,  in  f -Goi/s  houfe,  without  one  grain  of  grace, 
Spit,  like  si  vixen,  in  his  Worfhip's  lace, 
Ihen  (hook  her  nails,  as  {harp  as  taylor's  (hears, 
That  itch'd  to  fcrape  acquaintance  with  his  ears  r 
Not  Atkinfbn,  5  with  Wronger  terror,  ftarted, 
(Somewhat  afraid,  perchance,  of  being  carted) 
When  Jufrice,  a  fly  dame,  one  day  thought  fit 
To  pay  her  ferious  compliments  to  KIT  ; 
Ask'd  him  a  few  plain  queftions  about  corn, 
And  whifpei'd,  (he  believ'd  he  was  forfworn,-- 
Then  hinted  that  he  probably  would  find, 
That,  tho*  fhe  fometimes  mnKd^  Ihe  was  not  blind* 

NOT  more  Afhtfias'  | !  Princefs  lookM  aifright, 
At  breaki-aft,  when  her  fpotife,  the  unpolite, 
Hurfd,  madly  hcedlefs  both  of  time  and  placet 
A  cup  of  boiling  coffee  in  her  face  ; 
Becaufe  the  fair  one  eat  a  Ltttcrd  ro//, 
On  which  the  lelfijh  Prince  had  fix'd  his  foil!* 
Not  more  aPonillTd  look'd  that  Prince,  to/  find  J 
His  royal  father  to  his  face  unkind  : 
Who,  to  the  caufe  of  iniuf'd  beaury  won, 
Seiz'd  on  the  proud  Probofcis  of  his  fon, 


*  Kynafton  is  the  name  of  the  gentleman  availed  by  this  fu 
rious  >V:;ii;l  of  I'oiicr,  for  his  dif;ipprobation  oi'  the  lady,  as  an" 
acquaintince  for  h?s  w 

t  Vcr  ly  in  the  H-~"JSIS:  of  t1ie  Lor.n,  on  the  Lord's  Oriv,  in 
t'iu  ye v:  oi'  our  Lord  1785,  in  the  village  o-"  Leathcrheail,  in 
tr.c  con  -tv  of  S  in-'',  did  this  pro  nne  futtval  afHuilc  take  p'a  C' 
c?i  :  te  . •!  /  •  i  Sq  ilie  Kynafton,  to  the  uiilrace  of  his  farnilv, 
t  c  wonder  of  t:ic  par. on,  t  e  horror  of  the  clerk,  and  the 
:  x  co^v.rcguinn. 

!i  oil's  aL-ing  on  the  pillory  is  fufflci- 
.  to  t'-.c  p-. 

1  {.  rrcl   between  the  Prince  of  Aufturias  and  his 

Fi.  ;  ic  h.:crfercnce  of  tlic  Spv.nilh  Mon-irch,  as  de- 

i-    •     -  ,    s  i.ci  a  p-jeiic  fi:cion,  buc  an  abfoliuc  fact,  that 


'[  ICO  ] 

Quft  like  a  tiger  of  the  Lybian  (hade, 
Whole  furious  claws  the  helplefs  deer  invade,) 
And  led  him  ('till  that  SON  its  durance  freed, 

By  asking  pardon  for  the  brutal  deed) 

Led  him  thrice  round  the  room  (the  ilory  goes) 
Who  foilovfd^  with  great  gravity,  his  nofe. 
Refolv'd  at  firft  (for  Spaniards  are  ftiff  (luff) 
To  ask  no  pardon,  tho'  the  fnout  came  off  : 
Not  more  aftoniih'd  look'd  that  Spaniih  King, 
Whene'er  he  mifs'd  a  fnipe  upon  the  wing,  f 
Not  more  aftonifh'd  look'd  that  King  of  Spain, 
To  fee  his  gun-boats,  blazing  on  the  main  ; 
Nor  Doctor  Johnfon  more,  to  hear  the  tale 
Of  vile  Piozzi's  marrying  Mrs.  Thrale  ; 
Nor  Doftor  Wilfon,  child  of  am'rous  folly, 
When  young  Mac  Clyfter  bore  off  Kit  M'Auley. 

WHAT  dire  emotions  ihook  the  M eh's  foul  ! 

Tuft  like  two  billiard-balls  his  eyes  gan  roll, 

Whilfl  anger  all  his  royal  heart  potted, 

That  fwelling,  wildly  bttmp'd  againft  his  bread, 

Bounced  at  his  ribs,  with  all  its  might  fo  flout, 

As  refolutely  bent  on  jumping  out, 

T'  avenge,  with  all  its  po\»'rs,  the  dire  diigrace, 

And  nobly  fpit  in  the  offender's  face. 

Thus  a  large  dumpling  to  its  cell  confin'd, 

(A  very  apt  allufibn — co  my  mind) 

Lies  fnug,  until  the  water  waxeth  hot : 

Then  bullies  'midft  the  tempefl  of  the  piot : 

In  vain  ! —  the  lid  keeps  clown  the  child  of  dough, 

That  bouncing,  tumbling,  f\v eating,  rolls  below. 

"  O  dearcft  partner  of  my  throne"  (he  cries, 
Lifting  to  pitying  lleav'n  his  piteous  eyes) 


f  His  Moft  Catholic  Mnicfty's  fliootin^-mcrits  arc  univerfa!- 
ly  acknowledged,  Though  far  advanced  in  years,  he  is  ftill 
the  admiration  of  his  fa'yccts,  and  the  envy  of  his  brother 
Kings,  as  a  SHOT;  and  it  is  well  known,  that  even  on  thofe 
days,  when  the  Royal  Robes  are  obliged  to  be  worn,  his 
breeches  pockets  are  (luffed  with  gun-flints,  fcrews,  hammers, 
and  other  implements  neceflary  for  the  delhuction  of  fiiipes, 
partridges  and  wild  pigs. 


C 


brighteft  gem  of  G — ge's  Royal  Houfe, 
there,  and  tell  me,  if  that's  not  a  LOUSE  !** 


"  Thou 
"  Look 

TheQ—  -  lookM  down,  and  then  exc,ainfd,"G<W/4f  ' 
And,  with  a  fmile,  the  dappJed  ftranger  faw. 
Each  P—  -cefs  drain'  d  her  ioveJy  neck*  to  fee, 
And,  with  another  fmile,  exclaim'd,  "Good  meP* 
"  <>  ia!  Good  me!  is  that  all,  you  canfay?" 
(Our  gracious  M-  ------  ch  cry'd,  with  huge  difmay) 

"  Heav'iis  !  can  a  filly  vacant  (mile  take  place* 
"  Upon  your  M  --------  y's  and  children's  face* 

"  Whiift  that  vile  Loufe(ah!  foon  to  be  unjointed!) 
•*  Affronts  the  prefence  of  the  Lord's  anointed?" 

DASH'D,  as  if  tax^d  with  HelPs  mod  deadly  fins, 
The  Q  -------  and  i5-  ------  (Tes  drew  in  their  chins, 

Look'd  prim,  and  gave  each  exclamation  o'er,. 
And  very  prudent,  "  word  ipake  never  more.'* 
Sweet  muids!  the  beauteous  boafl!  of  Britain's  i(le-~ 
Speak—  were-  thoie  peer!e(s  ilps  forbid  to  i'miie? 
Lips  !  that  the  foul  of  fimp'e  Nature  moves  — 
Fortrfd  by  the  bounteous  hand  of  all  the  Loves! 
Lips  of  Delight!  unftain'd  by  Satire's  gall! 
Lips,  that  I  never  kifs'd  ;  and  never  ihail. 

Now,  to  each  trembling  ^age,  as  mute's  a  moufe, 
The  pious  M  -------  ch  cry'd  "  Is  this  your  Loufe?*' 

*'  Ah  !  Sire,"  (repiy'd  each  Page,  with  pig-like  whine) 
*'  An'  t  pleafe  your  M  ------  y,  it  is  not  mifi'e" 


^  (the  hafiy  Monarch  C'-y'd  again) 
What  ?  what  ?  what  ?  what  ?  what  ?  who  the  devilV 


Now  at  this  fad  event,  the  S  ------  n,  fore, 

Unhappy,  could  not  eat  a  mouthful  more  ; 

His  -,vijer  Q  .....  n,  her  gracious  iloinach  fetclying, 

Stuck  mod  devoutly  to  the  beef  and  puddingy 

For  Germans  are  a  very  hearty  fort, 

Whether  begot  in  Hog-fries  or  a  Court, 

Who  bear  (wa.ch  ibows,  their  hearts  are  not  of  ilone) 

Tb*  Uh  of  fitbci-s,  better  thaa  tbeir  WH, 


Grim  Terror  feiz'd  the  fouls  of  all  the  pages, 
Of  .different  fizes,  and  of  different  ages  ; 
Frighten'd  about  their  penfions,  or  their  bones, 
They  on  each  other  gap'd,  like  Jacob's  fons! 


Now  to  a  Page,-  but  wWc/v  we  can't  determine, 
The  growling  M  -----  —  ch.  gave  the  plate  and  vermine; 
"  Watch  well  that  blackguard  animal,  (he  cries) 
"  That  loon  or  late,  to  glut  my  vengeance,  dies! 
*  Watch,  like  a  cat,  that  vile,  marauding  Loufe, 

Or  G  —  ge  {hall  play  the  devil  in  the  Houfe. 

Some  Spirit  whifpers,  that  to  Cooks  Lowe 

The  precious  vifltor,  that  crawls  below.- 
%  By  Heav'nJthe  whifp'ring  Spirit  tells  me  true; 

And  foon  dire  vengeance  (hall  their  locks  purfue. 

Cooks,  fcourers,  fcullions  too,  with  tails  of  pig, 
c  Shall  lofe  their  coxcomb--  curls,  and  wear  a  wig," 
Thus  roar'd  the  K—  g,  not  Hercules  fo  big; 
And  all  the  palace  echo'd—  w  -wear  a,  wig!" 

Fear,  IJke  an  ague,  ftruck  the  pale-nos'd  Cooks  — 
And  dafh'd  the  beef  and  ven'fon  from  their  looks  ; 
Whilfl  from  each  cheek,  Old  Port  withdrew  his  red, 
And  PITY  bhibber'd,  o'er  each  menac'd  head. 

But  lo!  the  great  COOK-MAJOR  comes  !  his  eyes, 
Fierce  as  the  redd'ning  flame,  that  roafts  and  fries  ; 
His  cheeks,  like  bladders,  with  high  paflion  glowing^ 
Or  like  a  fat  Dutch  Trumpeter's,  when  blowing. 
A  neat  white  Apron  his  huge  corps  embraced, 
Ty'd  by  two  comely:  firings  about  his  waiil: 
An  Apron!  that  he  purchased  with  his  riches, 
To  guard,  from  hofiile  greafc,  his  velvet  breeches  — 
An  Apron  1  that  in  Moninouth-ftreet  high  hung, 
Oft  to  the  winds,  with,  fvvcet  deportment,  fwung, 

"  Ye  fons  of  dripping,  on  your  Major  look  !" 
(In  founds  of  deep-ton'  d  thunder,  ery'd  the  Cook) 
4t  By  this  white  Apron,  that  no  more  can  hope 

"To  join  die  piece  in  Mr.  Inkle's  (hop  ; 


I        «3        3 

That  oft  hath  held  the  bed  of  Palace  meat, 
And,  from  this  forehead,  wip'd  the  briny  Aveat^ 
I  fwear,  this  head  difdains  to  lofe  its  locks, 
And  thofe  that  do  not— .tell  them  they  are  BLOCKS. 
Whofe  head,  my  Cooks,  foch  vile  difgrace  endures? 
Will  it  be  your's,  or  your**,  or  jour's,  or  pour's? 
Ten  thoufand  crawlers  in  the  head  be  hatch'd, 
For  ever  itching,  but  be  never  fcratch'd. 
Oh!  may  the  charming  perquHite  of  greafe, 
The  Mammon  of  your  pocket,  ne'er  increafe ; 
Greafe!  that  fo  frequently  hath  brought  you  coin, 
From  Veal,  Pork,  Mutton,  and  the  Great  Sir  Loin,, 

O  brothers  of  the  fpit,  be  firm  as  rocks 

Lo!  to  no  King  on  earth  I  yield  .thefe  leeks. 
Few  are  my  hairs  behind,  by  age  endear'd! 
-•*  But  few  or  many,  they  ihall  not  be  Ihear* d. 

"  Sooner  fliall  Madam  Swellenberg,  *  the  jade, 
4  Yield  up  her  favorite  perquifites  of  trade, 
4  Give  up  her  facred  Majefty's  old  Gowns, 
•'  Caps,  Petticoats,  and  Aprons — without  frowns: 
>  She!  who  for  ever  ftudies  Mifchief-~fiie, 

*  Who  foon  will  be  as  bnfy  as  a  bee, 
4  To  get  the  liberty  of  locks  etrlavM, 

*  And  ev*ry  harmlefs  Cook  and  Scullion  ftiav'd: 
4  SHE— if  by  chance  a  BRITISH  vServant  Maid, 

'  By  feme  infinuating  tongue  betray'd, 
^  Induced  the  fair  forbidden  fruit  to  tafte, 
"•  Grows,  (lucklefs)  fomewhat  bigger  in  the  WAIST — 

4  Rants,  ftorms,  fwears,  tarn  the  penitent  to  door, 

*  Grac'd  with  the  pretty  names  of  B and  W — , 

••*  To  range,  a  proftitiue,  -ipon  the  town, 

"*  Or,  if  the  weeping  wretch  thing  better,  drown : 
4  But,  if  a  GERMAN  'Spider-brumer  fails, 

*  Whofe  Nofe  grows  iharper,  and  whofe  iliape  tells  tales ; 
<  Hufh'd  is  th'  affair!  the  Q— ,  and  SHE— good  Dame, 

*  Both  club  their  wits,  to  hide  the  growing  ihame : 

4  To  wed  her,  get  fome  fool— I  mean  fome  will:  man; 
•*  Then  dub  the  prudent  Cuckold,  an  Excifeinan : 


Mifcrefs  of  the  Robes  to  Hef 


£        "4       ] 

-*VSHE!  who  bath  got  more  infolence  and 

*  God  mend  her  heart;  than  half  the  world  befsdes 

4  SHE!  who,  of  glutting  fond,  (luffs  down  more  meat- 
•'  Heav'n  help  her  flomach!  than  the  men  can  eat! 
^*  Ten  men !  aye,  more  than  ten,  ten  hungry  Hag! 
4  Why,  zounds!  the  WOMAN'S  ftomach's  like  a  bag; 
•*  SHE!  who  will  fwell  the  uproar  of  the  houfe, 
4  And  tell  the  K  -g  damn'cl  lies  about  the  Lo.it fe ; 
4  When  probably  that  Loufe  (a  vile  old  trull !) 

*  Was  born  and  nourilh'd  in  h£r  own  grey  fcull. 

*  Sooner  the  room  {hall  buxom  Nanny  *  quit, 
4  Where  oft  fhe  charms  her  matter  with  her  wit--- 

*  T-»lls  tales  of  ev'ry  body*  ev'ry  tbing^ 

4  From  honed  courtiers,  to  the  thieves  who  fwing— 

*  Waits  on  her  S n,  whil*  he  reads  difpatehes, 

4  And  wifely  winds  up  STATE  AFFAIRS,  or  WATCHES; 
4  Sooner  the  Prince  (may  Heav'n  his  income  mend) 
4  Shall  quit  his  bottle,  miftrefs,  aad  his  rriend— 
4  Laugh  at  the  drop,  on  MISERY'S  languid  eye, 
4  And  hear  her  finking  voice,  without  a  figh : 
4  Break,  for  the  wealth  of  Realms,  his  facred  word, 
4  And  let  the  world  write  c  Coward''  on  his  fvvord : 

*  Sooner  fhal!  ham  from  fowl  and  turkey  part : 

4  And  (luffing,  leave  a  calFs  or  bullock's  heart: 

4  Sooner  {hall  toafted  cheefe  take  leave  of  muftard  $ 

4  And  from  the  codlin  tart  be  torn  the  cuflard : 

4  Svoner,  tfoefe  hands  the  gbrious  haunch  fliall  fpoilf 

4  And  all  our  melted  butter  turn  to  oil: 

*  Sooner  our  pious  K — g,  with  pious  face, 

4  Sit  down  to  dinner,  without  faying  grace ; 
€  And  evVy  night,  ialvatton  pray'rs  put  forth, 
4  For  Portland,  Fox,  Burke,  Slieridan  and  North? 
c. Sooner  (hall  fafhion  order  frogs  and  fnails, 

*  And  diih-clouts  flick  eternal  to  our  tails. 

4  Let  G- — ge  view  .Mi niters  with  furly  looks, 
4  Abu Pe  'em,  kick  'em  --b:it  revere  his  Cooks!" 
4  What!  lofe  our  locks!"  (rep'y'd  the  roafting  crew) 
4  To  barbers  yield  'emi— Damme,  if  we  do! 


*  Buxom   Nannv,  a  fcma!c  f ervant  of  the  Palace,  who 
fatttly  attends  the  K« -Si  when  he  reads  the 


I      «s      3 

"Be  (hav'd,  like  foreign  Dogs,  one  daily  inee:;-, 

"  Naked  and  blue,  and  ihiv'ring  in  the  (treats  ? 
-•"  And  from  the  Palace  be  amain' d  to  range, 

"  For  fear  the  world  fhould  think,  we,  had  the  mange; 

"  By  taunting  boys,  made  weary  of  our  lives, 
-"  Broad-grinning  wh-es,  and  ridiculing  wives !" 

"  "Roufe,  OPPOSITION  f'  (roar  d  a  tipfy  Cook, 
'With  hands  a-kimbo,  and  bubonic  look) 
*c  Tis  SHE  alone,  our  noble  curls  can  keep; 
"  Without  HER,  Minifters  would  fall  afleep. 
•"  'Tis  SHE  who  makes  great  men — our  Foxes,  Pitts; 
44  And  iharpens,  whet-ftone  like,  the  Nation's  Wits  : 
"  Knocks  off  your  knaves  and  fools,  however  great, 
••*'  And,  broom-like,  fweeps  the  Cobwebs  off  the  State  : 
"  Like  fulphur  in  a  cask,  expels  bad  air, 
••"  And  makes,  like  thunder-claps,  fiu(  we  a  ther  fair ; 
"  A<5ts,  like  a  gun,  that,  fifd  at  gather' d  foot, 
"  Preferves  tire  chimney,  and  the  houfe,  to  boot: 
Or,  like  a  fchool-boy's  'Whip,  that  keeps  up  tops : 
The  finking  Realm,  by  FLAGELLATION,  props. 
Our  M — h  muft  not  be  indulged  too  far; 
Befides !  1  love  a  little  bit  of  war. 
Whether  to  crop  our  curls,  he  boafts  a  right, 
Or  not— 1  do  not  care  the  Loufe's  bite  ; 
But  then,  no  .Force-work  !  No-!  No  force,  by  Ileav'n! 
Cooks  !  Yeomen  !  Scourers  !  we  will  not  be  driven! 
Try  but  to  force  a  PIG,  againft  his  will, 
Behold  !  the  fturdy  Gentleman  (lands  (till  ! 
Or,  p'rhaps  (his  pow'r  to  let  the  driver  know) 
Gallops  the  very  road  he  fhould  not  go— 
No  force  for  me  /-—the  French,  the  fawning  dogs, 
E'n  let  them  lofe  their  freedom,  and  eat  frogs  ; 
Damme  !  I  hate  each  pale,  foupe-meagre  thief  ; 
"  Give  me  my  darling  LIBERTY  and  BEEF  !" 
He  fpoke— and  from  his  jaws  a  lump  he  flid, 
And,  fwearing,  manful  flung  to  earth  the  QUID. 
Yet  fwelling  Pride  forbade  his  tongue  to  reft, 
Whilft  wild  emotions  labour'd  in  his  bread  ; 
Now  founds  confus'd,  his  Anger  made  him  titter, 
And,  when  he  thought  on  Jlaving^  curfes  fputter. 
Ivl. 


C        la*        3 

Such  is  the  found  (the  fimile's  not  weak) 

Form'd  by  whac  mortals,*  BUBBLE  call  and  SQUEAK, 

When  'midil  the  frying- Pan,  in  accents  favu^c, 

The  Beef  To  furly,  quarrels  with  the  Cabbage. 

"  Be  fhav\i  !"  a  SCULLION  'Joud  began  to  bellow, 

Loud  as  a  parifti-bull,  or  poor  Othello, 

Plac'd,  by  that  rogue  Jago,  upon  thorns, 

With  al!  the  horrors  of  a  pair  of  horns  : 

Loud  as  th'  Excifeman,  f  ftruggling  for  his  life, 

And  panting  in  a  moft  inglor'ous  ftrife  ; 

When,  on  his  face,  the  fmuggling  Prince fs  fprung. 

And,  cat-like  clawing,  to  his  vifage  clung. 

"  Be  Ibtiv'd,  like  pigs •/"  rejoin'd  the  Scullion's  mate, 
His  difhclout  {baking,  and  his  Pot-crown'd  PATE — 
"  What  barber,  dares  it,  let  him  watch  his  nofe, 
"  And,  (curfe  me  !)  dread  the  rage  of  thefe  ten  toes,*? 
So  faying:,  with  an  oath,  to  raife  one's  hair, 
He  kick'd,  %virh  threatening  foot,  the  yielding  aii\; 
Thus  have  I  feen  an  Afs  (bapuz'd  a  Jack.) 
Grac'd  by  a  Chimney-fweeper  on  his 'back, 
Prance,  fnort,  and  fling  his  heels  with  liberality, 
In  imitation  of  a  horfe  of  quality. 
"  Be  fhavtd!"  (an  underftrapper  Teurnebroche  jf  cry  <i? 
In  all  the  foaming  energy- of  pride) 
<c  Zounds  !  let  us  take  his  M — y  in  hand  ! 
*'-The  K***  (hall  find,  he  lives -at*0w  command: 
46  Yes  ;  let  him  know,  with  all  his  wond'rous  ftate, 
"  His  teeth  and  flomach  on  our  wills  feall  wait : 


*  The  mekleft  Author  of  the  LOUSIAD  muft  do  himfelf  tne 
juftlcc  to  declare  here,  that  his  fnnile  of  the  Bubble  and 
Squeak,  is  vaftiy  more  natural  and  more  fublinie,  than  Homer's 
black  pudding  on  a  gridiron,  illuftrating  the  motions  and  cmoti* 
ens  of  his  HERO  ULYSSES.  Vid.  ODYSSEY. 

t  This  affair  happened  a  few  years  fince.---An  Excifeman, 
feizing  fome  fmuggled  goods,  belonging  to  a  Princefs,  a  rela 
tion  of  the  Great  Frederick,  her  HIGHNESS  fell  upon  the  poor 
Rat  de  Cave,  and  almoft  fcratched  his  eyes  out-— the  Excife 
man  made  a  formnl  complaint  ;to  the  King,  begging  to  be  re 
lieved  from  the  difgrace.—ThQ  gallant  Monarch  returned  for 
anfwer,  that  he  gave  up  the  duties  to  hisCoufin,  the  Princefs, 
but  could  not  conceive  how  the  hand  of  a  FAIR  LADY  could 
diflj-'tior  the  f.ice  of  an  Excifeman. 

ft  A  French  name  for  n  turnfpit,  or  fcuIHon, 


£  127  ] 

**  Ifa  ruie  the  platters,  we  command  the  fpit, 

M  And  G —  thall  have  his  mefs,  when  we  think  fit; 

"  Stay,  till  our f elves  iliall  condefcend  to  eat, 

"  And  then — if  we  think  proper— have  his  meat" 

Tbitj,  having  fed  on  ven'son  rather  coarfe, 

A  Co!t,  or  Crocodile,  or  Diih  of  horfe, 

The  Tartar  quits  his  fmoaky  hut,  with  fcorn, 

Sounds,  to  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  his  horn ;' 

And  treating  Monarchs  like  his  (laves,  or  fvvine, 

Informs  them,  they  have  liberty  to  dine, 

"  Heav'ns !"    (cry'd  a  YEOMAN,    with  much  learning 

grac'd) — 

In  Books  as  well  as  meat,  a  man  of  tafle9 
Who  rend  with  vaft  applaufe  the  daily  News, 
And  kept  a  clofe  acquaintance  with  the  Mufe ; 
Conundrum,  Rebus,  made — Acroftic,  Riddle, 
And  fung  his  dying  Sonnets  to  his  Fiddle, 
When  LOVE,  with  cruel' dart,  (the  murd'ring  Thief) 
His  heart  had  fpilted^  like  a  piece  of  Beef.      \ 
"  Are  thefe  (he  faid)  of  KINGS,  the  whims,  and  jokes? 
"  Then  Kings  can  be  as  mad?  as  common  folks. 
"  Dame  Nature,  when  a  Prince's  head  (he  makes, 
"No  more  concern  about  the  Infide,  takes, 
"  Than  of  the  Infide  of  a  Bug's  or  Bat's, 
"  A  Flea's,  a  Grnftiopper's,  a  Cur's,  a  Cat's  ! 
"  As  carelefs  as  the  Artift,  trunks  defigning, 
"'About  the  trifling  circumftance  of  lining  ; 
16  Whether,  of  Cumberland  he  life  the  plays, 
"  Mifs  Barney's  Novels,  or  Mils  Se  ward's"  Lays  : 
"  Or  facred  Dramas  of  Mifs  Hannah  More, 
"  When  all  the  Nine,  with  little  Mofes,  (bore  ; 
"Or  good  Squire  Pindar's  odes,  or  Wharton's  flick, 
"  Or  Horace  Walpole's  doubts  upoif  King  Dick, 
"Who  furious  drives,  at  times,  his  old  goofe-quill, 
"  On  Strawb'ry,  (Reader)  not  th'  /Ionian  Hilt; 
;c  Whether  he  doom  the  Royal  Speech  to  cling, 
"  Or  thofe  of  Lords  and  Commons  to  the  King  ; 
"  Where  one  begs  money,  arfd  the  others  grant— 
"  So  eafy,  freely,  friendly,  complaifant, 
M  2 


*  As  if  the  Cajb  were  really  all  their  own— 

*  To  purchafe  *  Kmck-nacks,  that  clifgrace  a  throne.- 
<Ah,  me!  did  people  know,  what  trifling  things, 

c  Compofe  thofe  idols  of  the  Earth,  call'd  ./if—  s;^. 

*  Thole  counterparts  of  that  important  fellow, 

4  The  Children's  wonder— Signer  Punchinello; 
€  Who  ftruts  upon  the  ftage  his  hour  away; 

*  His  outfide,  gold— his  infide,  rags  and  hay; 

6  No  more,  as  God's  vicegerents,  would  they  fliine, 
'  Nor  make  the  world  cut  throats,  for  RIGHT  DIVINED 

6  Thofe  LORDS  of  Eartlt,  at  dinner,  we  have  feen, 

*  Sunk,  by  the  meereft  trifles,  with  the  fpleen  ; 

6  Oft,  for  an  ill-draft  egg,  have  heard  them  groan, 
6  And  feen  them  quarrel,  for  a  mutton  bone  : 

*  At  fait  or  vinegar,  with  paflion,  fume, 

c  And  kick  dogs,  chairs,  and  pages,  round  the  room  f. 

^  c  ALAS!  how  often  have  we  heard  them  grunt, 
Whene'er  the  nulling  rain  hath  fpoil'd  a  hunt  ! 
Their  fangiiine  willies  crofs'd,  their  fpirits  clogg'd, 
Mere    RIDING    DISIICLOUTS,     homeward    have     they 

jogg'd; 

Poor  imps !  the  fpot  (with  all  their  pride  and  powY) 
Of  NATURE'S  diuretic  ftream— a  SHOW'R  ! 
This,  we,  the  Actors  in  the  Farce,  perceive  ; 
But  this,  the  diltant  world  will  ne'er  believe  ; 
Who  fancy  Kings  to  all  the  Virtue's  born : 
Ne'er  by  the  vulgar  ilorms  of  Pailion  torn  ;   - 

*   The  civil  lift,  we  are  inclined  to  think,  feels  deficiencies 
from  Toys—For  an  inftance,  we  will  appeal  to  Mr.  Cumming's* 
Non-defcript  of  a  Time-piece  at  the  QueenVHoufe,  which 
coft  nearly  two  thoufand  pounds.— The  fame  artift    is  alfo  al 
lowed  aoo/.  per  annum  to  keep  the  Bauble  in  repair. 

f  This  is  partly  a  picture  of  the  laft  reign,  as  well  as  the. 
PRESENT.  The  pallions  of  George  the  Second,  were  of  the 
mod  impetuous  kind— his  hat  and  his  favourite  Minifter,  Sir 
Robert  Walpole,  were  too  frequently  the  foot-balls  of  his  ill- 
humours— nay,  poor  Queen  Caroline  came  in  for  a  •  fliare  of 
his  foot-benevolence— but  he  was  a  Prince  of  many  virtues  s» 
and, 

— — "  Ubi  plufii  nitent, — non  ego  frauds 
f    Offendar  maculis." 


*  But  bled  with  fouls  fo  calm !  like  Summer-feasy 

*  That  fmile  to  Heav'n,  unruffled  by  a  breeze  : 
«  Who  think  that  K~gs,  on  wifdom  always  fed, 
6   Speak  fentences,  like  Bacon's  brazen  Head  ; 

*  Hear  from  their  lips  the  vileft  nonfenfe  fall, 
4  Yet  think  fome  Heav'nly  Spirit  dictates  all  ; 

*  Conceive  their  bodies  of  celedial  clay, 

*  And,  tho'  all  ailment,  facred  from  decay  ; 

4  To  nods  and  fniiles  their  gaping  homage  bring, 

*  And  thank  their  God,  their  eyes  have  feen  a  KING  ! 
6  Lord  !  in  the  circle,  when  our  Royal  Mailer 

4  Pours  out  his  words,  as  tad  as  hail,  or  fader, 

*  To  Country  Squires^and  wives  of  Country  Squires  ; 
4  Like  duck  Pigs,  daring,  how  each  Oaf  admires  ! 

4  Lo  !  ev'ry  fyllable  becomes  a  Gem  ! 

*  And  if,  by  chance,  the  M — ch  cough  or  hem, 

*  Seiz'd  with  the  fymptoms  of  a  deep  furprife, 

*  Their  joints  with  rev'renee  tremble,  and  their  eyes 

*  Roll  wonder  fird  ;  then,  fhrinking  back  with  tear, 
4  Would  hide  behind  the  brains,  were  any  there. 

4  How  taken  is  this  idle  World  by  Ihow  ! 

4  Birth,  Riches,  are  the  Baals,  to  whom  we  bow  ; 

4  Preferring  (ev'n  with  foul  as  black  as  foot) 

*  A  R  OGUE  on  horfeback,  to  a  SAINT  on  foot. 
4  See  France,  fee  Portugal,  Sicilia,  Spain, 

4  And  mark  the  Defert  of  each  Defpot's  forain  ; 

*  Whofe tongues  ihouid  never  treat,  with  taunts,  a  FOOL; 
•4  Who  prove,  that  nothing  is  too  mean  to  rule. 

4  What  could  the  Prince,  high  tow'ring,  like  a  deeple, 
4  Without  the  Majefty  of  Us,  the  People  ? 
4  Go,  like  the  *  King  of  Babylon,  to  grafs, 

*  Or  wander  like  a  beggar,  with  a  pafs  ! 

*  However  modern  Kings  may  Cooks  defpife, 

4  Warriors  and  Kings  were  Cooks,  or  Hid'ry  lies— 
4  Patroclus  broiPd  beef-deaks,  to  quell  his  hunger  : 
«  The  mighty  Agamemnon  potted  conger  ! 
4  And  Charles  of  Sweden,  'mid ft  his  guns  and  drums, 

*  Spread  his  own  bread  and  butter,  with  his  thumbs. 

Ms 

*  Nebucha.lncz^a*. 


[         130        ] 

*  Be  fliav'd  I  No  !  Sooner,  pill'ries,  jails,  the  Hocks, 

*  Shall  pinch  this  corps,   than  Barbers  fnatch  my  locks,* 
6  Well  haft  thou  faid,  (a  SCOURER  bold  rejoin'd) — 

*  Damme  !  I  love  the  man,  who  {peaks  his  mind.'* 
Then  in  his  arms  the  Orator  he  took, 

And  (wore,  he  was  an  Angel  of  a  Cook. 

A  while  he  held  him,,  with  a  Cornilh  hug  ; 

Then  feiz'd,  with  glorious  grafp,  a  pewter  mug,. 

Whofe  ample  womb  nor  cyder  held,  nor  ale, 

But  neftar,  fit  for  Jove,  and  brew'd  by  Thrale. 

'  A  health  to  Cooks  !  (he  cry'd,  and  wav'd  the  pot) 

*  And  he,  who  iighs  for  titles,  is  a  fot  ; 

*•  Let  Dukes  and  Lord?,  the  world,  in  wealth ',  furpafs ; 

*  Yet  many  a  Lion's  skin  conceals  an  Afs. 

*  Lo  !  this  is  one  among  my  golden  rules, 

*  To  think  the  GREATEST  MEN"  the  GREATEST  FOOLS  : 

*  The  great  are  judges  of  an  op'ra  long — 

6  And  fly  a  Briton's,  for  an  Eunuch's  tongue  ; 

*  Can  ftarve  their  families,  to  hear  Babinis, 

*  Gaunt  Paccharottis,  fat-rump'd,  fqirab  Rauzzinis  $ 

*  Thus  idly  fquanxTring,  for  a  fquawlj  their  riches — 

*  To  faint,  with  rapture,  at  thofe  Cats  in  Breeches, 
*•  Accept  this  truth  from  me,  my  lads—the  man 

*  Who  iirfc  a  fpit  found  out,  or  frying-pan, 

6  Did  ten  time*  more,  toward  the  public  goody. 

*  Than  all  the  ii  ,vdry  titles  fince  the  Hood  : 

*  Titles  !  that  Kings  may  grant  to  AflTes,  Mules, 
6  The  fcorn  of  Sages,  and  the  boaft  of  Fools." 
He  ended— All  the  COOKS  exclaim'd  "  divine  .'" 
Then  whifper'd  one  another,  'twas  "  damn  d  fine  /**' 
Thus  fpoke  the  Scourer,  like  a  man  infpir'd, 
Whofe  fpeech  the  HEROES  of  the  kitchen  iir'd. 
Grooms,  Mafter-fcourers,  Scullions,  Scullion's  Mates, 
With  all  the  overfeers  of  knives  and  plates,. 

Felt  their  brave  fouls,  like  frisky  cider,  work. 
Whizzing  in  oppofidon  to  the  cork  : 
Earth's  Potentates  appeared  ignoble  things, 
And  Cooks  of  greater  con fequence^  than  Kings  ; 
Such  is  the  pcnv'r  of  words,  where  truth  unites. 
And  fiK'li  the  rage,  that  injur'd  worth  excites  ! 


The  Scourer's  fpeech,  indeed,  withr  reafoii  blei% 
Infltim'd,  with  god-like  ardor,  all  the  reft. 
Thus  if  a  BARD  Heav'n's  vengeful  lightning  draw  ; 
The  flame  setherial  ftrikes  the  kindling  ilraw: 
Doors,  rafters,  beams,  owls,-  weazels,  mice,  and  rats? 
And— (if  unfortunately  moufing) — cats  ; 
All  feel  the  wide-devouring  fire  in  turn, 
And,  mingling  in  one  conflagration,  burn. 

c  Sons  of  the  SPIT,"  the  Major  cry'd  again, 

*  Your  noble  fpeeches  prove  you  bleft  with  IJrain  3- 

*  Brain!  that  dame  Nature  gives  not  ev'ry  head, 
But  fills  the  vail  vacuity  with  lead  ! 

Yet  ere  for  Oppofition  we  prepare,  " 
And  fight  the  GLORIOUS  CAUSE  of  HEADS  of  HAIR, 
Methinks  'twould  be  but  decent  to  petition, 
And  tell  the  K-g,  with  firmnefs,  our  condition  i- 
S.oon  as  our  fad  complaint  he  hears  us  utter, 
His  gracious  heart  may  melt  away,  like— butter  %: 
Fair  Mercy  fhine  amidft  our  gloomy  houfe, 
And  angef d  M- — y  forget  the  Loufe." 


As  ranny  people  perfift  in  their  Incredulity,  with  refpecH:  to 
the  attack,  mude,  by  the  Barbers,  on  the  Heads  of  the  harm- 
lefs  Cooks,  I  ihall  exhibit  a  Lift  of  the  unhappy  fuflferers:-— 
it  is  the  Palace  Lilt,  and  therefore  as  authentic  as  the  Gazette. 

A  true  Lift  of  the  Shaved  at  Buckingham  Houfe. 

Two  Mafter  CooKs  Two  Soil-Carriers 

Three  Yeomen,  ditto         Two  Door-Keepers 

Four  Grooms  Eight  Boys 

Three  Children  Five  Paftry  Peoph 

Two  Mafter  Scourers         Eight  Silver  Scullery, 

Six  under  Scourers  for  laughing  at  the  Cooks* 

Six  Tournebroches 

//;  #//,   Fifty -one, 
A  voung  man?  named  John  Bear3  v,rould  not  fubrait,  and  loft 


L     O     U     S     I     A     D, 


AN 


H  E  R  O  I  -  C  0  M  I  C    POEM. 


C    ANT    0      II. 


THE     A    R    G    U   M   E   N   T. 


L 


INVOCATION  to  tie  Mitfes  ;  Eegcneraoy  of  modern 
Poets  ;  The  ragged  State  of  the  Ladies  of  Paniaffin  ; 
Sad  Condition  of  Bards  ;  Praife  of  Mr.  left's  great 
Pifture  of  King  Alexander  and  the  Stag  ;  Mere  invo 
cation  to  the  Mufes  ;  The  Tricks  of  thofe  Ladies  ; 
Their  Inrpofitions  on  Poets  and  Poeteffcs  ;  A  Compli 
ment  to  King  George,  and  Dr.  HerfcbelL  on  their  inti 
macy  with  the  Moon,  and  important  Difioveries  in  that 
Planet;.  Invocation  to  Apollo  ;  Invocation  to  Confci- 
ence  ;..  Truth  and  Faifehood?  their  Situations  ;  More 
Invocation  to  Confcience  ;  The  Praife  of  Royal  Qecono- 
my,  and  a  Hanoverian  College  ;  Addrejl  to  Gottingen  ; 
More  Invocation  to  Confcience  ;  Mr.  Htfiixg?  Rulfe? 
Mrs.  Ha/tings'  Bed  and  Cradty  ;  More  Jvo.-d*  to  Con 
fcience  ;  Her  Power^  over  the  late  Mr.  Torke  and  Lord 
dive  ;  /Iddrefs  to  Fame  ;,  A  Requeft  to  the  a f ore f aid 
Gentlewoman^  inftrufting  her,  how  to  difpofe  of  f owe  of 
her  Trumpets  ;  Defcription  of  her  PfeudO'/^ofaries  ; 
The  Bard  blujling  for  the  Quantity  of  invocation  ; 
Proccljion  of  bis  Epic  Poem  ;  Madam  S&jellenberg  de- 
fcribcd,  with  a  Plate  of  Ham  ;  Account  of  her  Birtb^ 
Parentage, .  and  Education  ;  Account  ef  Pride  ;  Ma 
dam  Swellenb erg's  vifit  to^  the  King  ;  His  Majefty^s 
•moft  gracious  Speech  ;  Madam  Swellenbergs  An  fiver  ; 
Addrefs  to  readers,  en  Ladies'  fivearing  ;  Sir  Francis 
Drake,  the  Steward  of  the  Household,  defcribed—not  to 
be  confounded  vsitb  the  fanwus  Sir  Francis  Drake,  u'b& 
died  near  200  Tears  ago  ;  Tbe  Perquifites  of  the  pre 
fect  Sir  Francis  ;  Defcription  of  the  Dining  Room,  be 
longing  to  the  Cooks,  at  Buckingham  Houfe  ;  The  en 
tertainment  and  Utenfils  of  this  Room  ;  Dixon,  the 
Cook-Major  s  Speech  ;  Story  of  a  Nabob  and  a  Beggar ; ' 
Cook-Major  Dixon* s  Speech  in  continuance  ;  Speech  of 
another  Cook  ;  The  Cooks  in  the  Dttnips  ;  The  C-ook- 
Ma jar's  Rejoinder  to  the  Cook's  Speech  ;  A  very  fenfi- 
ble  Speech  ;  Conchifwn,  with  a  beautiful  Simile  :1ke 
Set  it  ton  of  the  Cooks,, 


THE 


U     S     I     A 


•C    A    N    T    O       II. 


I  YMPHS  of  the  facred  fount  ;•  around  whofe  brink, 
Bards  ruih  in  droves,  like •  ctii>horfevto  drink  ; 
Dip  their  dark  heads  amidft  your  fiream,  fo  clear, 
And  whilfl  they  gulp  it,  wifh  it  ale  or  beer:; 
.Far  more  delighted  to  poflefs,  I  ween, 
Old  Galvert's  brew-houfe,  for  their  Hippocrene  ; 
And  bleft  with  beef,  their  ghoftly  forms  to  fill, 
Make  Dolly's  chop-houfe  their  Aonian  hill  ; 
More  pleas'd  to  hear  knives,  forks,  in  concert  joui9 
Than  all  the  tinkling  cymbals  of  the  Nine  4 
AiUft  irie--ye,  who  themes  fublime.purfue, 
With  fcarce  a  (hifc9  a  (locking,  or  a  fiioe  ; 
Such  pow'r  have  fatires,  epigrams,  and  odes, 
As  make  ev'n  bankrupts  of  the  born  of  gods, 
As  well  as  mortal  bards,  who  oft  bewail 
Their  unfuccefsful  mndrigals— in  jail, 
Where  penn'd,  like  haplefs  cuckows  in  a  cage, 
l^he  ragged  warblers  pour  their  tuneful  rage  ; 
Deck  the  damp  wall  with  verfe  of  various  quality, 
And,  from  the  prifons,  mount  to  immortality. 

Ah  !  tell  me,  where  is  now  thy  blufh,  O  SHAME  ! 
'.Shall  bards,  thro'  jails,  explore  the  road  to  Fame  ; 


•C      136      ] 

Like  fouls  of  Papifts,.-in  their  way  to  glory, 
Doom'd,  at  the  half-way  houfe,  calf  d  Purgatory, 
To  burn  (before  they  reach  the  realms  of  light) 
Like  Old  tobacco-pipes,  from  .black  to  white  ?' 
Yet  let  me  fay  again,  that  powerful  rhyme 
Hath  lifted  poets  to  a  ilate  fublime  ; 
To  lofty  pili'nes  raisM  their  facred  ears, 
High  o'er  the  heads  of  marvelling  compeers, 
Whofe  eggs,  potatoes,  turnips,  and  their  tops, 
Paid  flying  homage  to  their  tuneful  chops. 
Bleft  State  !  that  gives  each  fair  exalted  mien, 
To  grace  in  print  each  monthly  magazine, 
And  deck  the  ihops,  with  fweet  engravings  drcft, 
'Midft  angels,  finners,  faints  of  Mr.  Weil  ; 
Where  brave  King  Alexander  and  the  Deer, 
A  noble,  buttling  hode-podge  ihall  appear, 
From  that  fam'd  *  picture,  which 'our  wonder 
And  pour'd  its  brazen  ("plexors  on  the  view  ; 
Bright  as  the  pictures,  that,  with  glorious  glare. 
On  Penthoufe  high,  in  Piccadilly  Rare, 
Where  lions  feem  to  roar,  and  tigers  growl, 
Hyenas  whine,  and  wolves  in  concert  howl  ; 
And  by  their  goggling^eyes,  and  furious  grin, 
Inform,  what  fbaggy  deVils  lodge  within. 

Ye  Nymphs,  who,  fond  of  fun,  full -many  a  timep 
Mount,  on  a  jack-afs,  many  a  child  of  rhyme, 
And  make  him  think,  aftride  his  braying  hack, 
He  moves  fublime  on  pe#afus'  back  ; 
Ye  Mufes,  oft  by  brainlefs  poets  fought, 
To  bid  the  ftanza  chime,  and  fwell  with  thought ; 
Who,  whel;-.r.v/  for  Oblivion,  fain  would  fave 
Their  whining  puppies  from  the  fullen  wave  ; 
Ailift  me,  ye,  who  vi (it  towns  and  hovels, 
To  teach  our  girls  in  bibs  to  eke  out  novels, 
And  treat  with  fcorn  (far  nobler  knowledge  iludying) 
The  humbler  art  of  making  pie  or  pudding  ; 


*    A  whole  acre  of  canvafs^  fo  danb'd  with  colour,   as  to 
give  it  the  appearance  of  a  brafs-foundery. 


C        137        ] 

'Who  make  our  Sapphos  of  their  verfes  vain, 
And  fancy  all  ParnaflTus  in  their  brain ; 
And  'hifdrt  the  buflle  of  their  lucubrations; 
Take  downright  madnefs  for  your  infpirations ; 
Charm' d  with  the  cadence  of  a  lucky  line, 
Who  take  a  rapture  equal,  George,  to  thine; 
When  bled  at  Datchet,  thro'  thy  Herfcheli's  glafs, 
That  brings  from  diftant  worlds  a  hovfe,  an  afs, 
A  tree,  a  wind-mill,  to  the  curious  eye, 
Shirts,  {lockings,  blankets,  that  on  hedges  dry; 
Thine  eyes,  at  ev'nings  late,  and  mornings  foon, 
Unfa  ted  feaft  on  wonders  in  the  moon : 
Where  Herfcheil  on  volcanos,  mountains,  pores. 
And  happy  Nature's  true  fubiime  explores : 
Whilft  thou  fo  modefi  (wonderful  to  teli !)  • 
On  Lunar  trifles  art  content  to  dwell, 
Flies,  grafs  hoppers,  grubs,  cobwebs,  cuckow-fpictle, 
In  fhort,  delighted  with  the  world  of  little, 
Which  Well  (hall  paint,  and  grave  Sir  Jofeph  Banks 
Receive  from  thy  hiftoric  mouth,  with  thanks; 
Then  bid  the  vermine  on  their  journals  *  crawl, 
Hop,  jump,  and  flutter,  to  ainufe  us  all. 

And  thou,.  great  Patron  f  of  the  double  quill, 
That  flays  by  rhyme,  and  murders  by  a  pill, 
A  pretty  kind  of  double-barrel'd  gun, 
More  giv'n  to  tragedy,  than  comic  fun  : 
Aufpicious  Patron  of  the  paunch,  and  backs 
Of  thofe  all-daring  rafcals,  chriften'd  quacks, 
To  whom  our  purfe  and  lives  are  legal  plunder, 
Who,  hawk-like  keep  the  human  fpecies  under — - 
GOD  of  thofe  gentlemen  of  jingling  brains, 
Who,  for  their  own  amnfcinent,  print  their  drains, 

0  aid,  as  lofty  Homer  lays,  my  JVWs,  § 

To  fing  fublime  the  Monarch  and  the  Loufe ! 

Nymphs,  Phoebus,  in  my  firfl  heroic  chapter, 

1  fhould  have  pray'd  for  crumbs  of  tuneful  rapture; 

N 

-•*  Of  the  Royal  Society.  f  Apollo. 

3  Mind,  Fancy,  Imagination. 


L        '38        ] 

Thus  to  Forget  rny  friends,  was  not  fo  clever; 
Bur,  fays  the  proverb,  "  better  late  than  never" 

Well !  fmce  I'm  in  the  invocation  trade, 

To  Conference  let  my  compliments  be  paid- —    „ 

CONSCIENCE,  a  terrifying  little  fprite, 
That,  bat-like,  winks  by  day  and  wakes  by  night ; 
Hunts,  thro1  the  heart's  dark  holes,  each  lurking  vice, 
As  iharp  as  weazels  hunting  eggs  or  mice; 
Who,  when  the  lightnings  flafh,  and  thunders  crack, 
Makes  our  hair  bridle,  like  a  hedge-hog's  burl: ; 
Shakes,  ague-like,  our  hearts,  with  wild  commotion; 
Uplifts  our  faint-like  eyes,  with  dread  devotion  : 
Bids  the  poor  trembling  tongues  make  terms  with  HeavX 
And  promife  miracles  to  be  forgiv'n  : 
Bids  fpeftres  rife,  not  very  like  the  Graces, 
With  gogling  eyes,  black  beards,  and  Tyburn  faces; 
With  fcenes  pf  fires;  of  glowing  brimftone,  fcares. 
Spits,  forks,  and  proper  culinary  wares, 
For  roalliny1,  broil  ing*  frying,  frica  fleeing, 
The  Soul,  that  fad,  offending,  little  Being, 
That  ftubborn  (tuff  of  fftiamander-make, 
Proof  to  the  fury  of  the  burning  lake, 

O  conference!  thou  ftrait  jacket  of  the  foai, 
The  madding  fallies  of  the  bard  controul ; 
Who,  when  inclm'd,  like  brother  bards,  to  lie, 
Bring  TRUTH'S  neglected  form  before  his  eye- 
Fair  maid!  to  towns  and  courts  a  ftranger  grown,  . 
Mel  now  to  rural  fwains  almoft  unknown, 
Whofe  company  was  once  their  prudent  choice } 
Who  once,  delighted,  liflen'd  to  her  voice ; 
When  in  their  hearts  the  gentler  paflion  drove, 
And  conftancy  went  hand  in  hand  with  Love* 
Sweet  Trilth,  who  deals  thro'  lonely  {hades  along, 
And  tnin^les  with  the  turtle's  note  her  fong; 
Wfeild  Falfehood,  rais'd  by  fycophantic  tricks, 
n  g  flaunts  it,  in  A  coach  and.  Ox, 


[        139        3 

Confcienae,  who  bid' ft  our  Monarch,  from  the  nation. 

Send  Tons  to  Gottingen,  for  education; 

Since,  hnpiefs  CAM  and  Isis,  loft  to  knowledge, 

Are  idiots  to  this  Hanoverian  college, 

Where  fur-pie  Science  beams  with  orient  ray; 

The  great,  the  glorious  Athens  of  the  cr.y! 

So  fays  the  RULER  of  Us9  Engiilh  fools, 

Who  cannot  judge,  like  him*  of  Wifdoins'  fchools. 

Dear,  Attic  Gottingen!  to  thee  I  bow, 
Of  K:  -w  ! 

From  whom  hii^e  p?.iisriie  roynl  [ball  bring, 

And  give,  • —  ^ 

Through  /.. 

The  lads  fiiall  get  their  board  urid  tod  ^i 

And  learn,  like  their  good  parents,  to  iubiiii 
Within  the  limits  of  the  Civil  Lift; 
Who  feldom  bid  a  Mirtifler  implore 
A  little  farther  pittance  for  the  poor. 

Confcience!  who,  to  the  wonder  of  his  S;rc% 
Bad'ft  from  his  wonted  flate  a  Prince  *  retire, 
And,  like  a  fubjeft,  humbly  leek  a  ihaJe, 
That  not  a  tradefman  might  remain  IUH 
An  aftion,  that  the  foul  of  Envy  flings— 
A  deed  unmention'd  in  the  book  of  Kings! . 


Confcience  !  v 
Send  p:i.«'ncr  the  iam'd  *  Di'mo. 
So  v.  topk'd  him  in 

"And  impucfendy  fought  to  bribe  Iu3  GRV 
Where  too  the  cradle  f  anc^  the  bed 
That,  on  the  fame  damn'd  erran, 
Thus  full  of  gems  and  pearls,  the  trc. 
And  beds  and  cradles,  that  would  ML 

N  2 

*   The   Prince   of  Wales,  who  fold,  at  public  au 
horfes,  plate,  &c.  &c.  &c.,to  pay  his  debts. 

*  t  §    Preients  of  imtnenfe  value,  made  to  the 
Queen,  by  Warren  Haftings. -. — N.  B.     It 

Tower  of  London,  that  the  Royal  jewels  arc  prefer. 


Conscience  !  xvho  mak'fl  our  King  (how  very  ftrange !) 
Keep  a  fair  draw'r  of  half-pence,  to  give  change: 
Refolv'd  (fo  flri&ly  in  his  dealings  true) 
That  none  ihall  keep,  from  CESAR,  CESAR'S  due. 

Confcience  !  who  now  can'fl,  like  a  cnrt-horfe,  draw 
Now,  lifelefs,  finking,  fcarcely  lift  a  draw : 
So  different  are  thy  pow'rs,  at  difF'rent  times ! 
Thou  clear  companion  of  the  man  of  rhymes] 
Thou !  who  at  times  can'fl,  like  a  lion,  roar 
For  one  poor  fixpetfce;  yet,  like  North  can'fl:  fnore, 
Tho1  rapine,  murder,  try  to  ope  thine  eyes, 
And  raging  hell,  with  all  his  horrors,  rife : 
Whole  eye  on  petty  frauds  can  fiercely  flame, 
Yet  wink  at  full-blown  crimes,  that  blait  a  name. 

O  Confcience !  who  didil  bid  to  madnefs  work, 
(So  great  thy  pow'r)  the  brain  of  haplefs  Yorke, 
And  mad'H  him  cut  from  ear  to  ear  his  throat, _ 
That  luckleft  fpoil'd  his  patriotic  note; 
Yet  wanted'il  llrength  to  force  from  bis  hard  eye 
One  drop-- who  helped  him  to  yon  fpangled  sky; 
Whofe  damned  pray'rs,  feign'd  tears,  and  tongue  of  arc, 
Won  on  the  weaknefs  of  his  honed  heart! 
Poor  Yorke!  without  a  flone,  whole  reliques  lie, 
Tho'  Virtue  mark'd  the  murder  with  a  fi-gh! 

0  Confcience !  who  to  Cuvs  clidil:  give  the  knife, 
Th-cit,  defp'rate  plunging,  took  his  forfeit  life 
Who,  lawlefs  plund'rer,  in  his  wild  career, 
Whelm'd  ASIA'S  eye  with  woe,  and  heart  with  fear; 
Whole    wheels  on  carnage  roli'd,    and   drench'd  with 

(blood, 

From  gafping  Nature  forc'd  the  bluflilng  flood; 
Whilft  Mvock,  painting  with  triumphant  breath, 
Nerv'd  his  red  arm,  and  hail'd  the  hills  of  death. 
And  now  to  thee,  O  lovely  Fame,  I  bend; 
Ler  all  thy  trumpets  this  great  work  commend: 
Give  one  a  piec*  to  all  the  lennfd  Reviews, 
And  bid  rliern  found  the  labours  of  the  Mufe: 


£      i4'      3 

Give  to  the  magazines,  a  trumpet  each, 
And  let  the  fwelling  note  to  doomfday  reach  : 
To  daily  news-papers  a  trumpet  give  : 
Thus  ihall  my  epic  ilrain  for  ever  live  : 
Thus  ihall  my  book  defcend  to  diftant  times, 
And  rape  posterity  refound  my  rhym 
By  future  Beauties  mall  each  totiie  be  pre:l, 
And,  like  their  lap-dogs,  live  a  parlour-gae^t. 

Thee,  deareft  Fame,  fome  mercenaries  hail, 
Merely  to  gain  their  labours  a  good  ikie  ? 
Or  rife  to  fair  preferment,  by  thy  tongue, 
Tho'  deaf  as  adders  to  thy  charms  of  fong  : 
Tuft  as  the  hypocrites  fay  pray'rs,  fing  pfalms, 
Beftow,  upon  the  blind  and  cripple,  alms  ; 
Yield  glory  to  the  POW'R  who  rules  above, 
Not  from  a  principle  of  heav'nly  love, 
But  (fneaking  raicals  !)  to  obtain—when  dead— 
A  comfortable  lodging  over  head  ; 
When  forc'd  ly  age^  or  dofton,  or  their  fpoufes, 
The  Vagrants  quic  their  fubluaary  hou;"^, 

With  tirefome  invocation  having  dene, 
At  length  our  glorious  Epic  :>n  ^ 

Lo  !  Madam  Svvellenberg,  inc  in'd  to  cram. 
Was  vvond'rous  bufy,  o'er  a  plate  of  hain  ; 
A  ham,  that  once  adorn' d  a  German 
Hough  as  a  bear,  and,  as  a  jack-afs,  big  ; 
in  woods  of  ff^eftphafy  by  hunters  fhnttei, 
And  lent  a  prc-ferit  to  the  Queen  of  Britain. 

But  ere  we  farther  march,  ye  Mufes,  fay 
Somewhat  of  Madam  Svvellenberg,  I  pray  \ 
if  ancient  poets  mention  but  a  horfe,^ 
WtM'ead  his  genealogy,  of-  courie  : 

f,  ihail  horfes  boiid  the  death 
.,  o'er  a  Lady's  lineage,  ileo;: 

l.y  vTitie  of  her  father  and  her 
This  v/o.iuu  taw  the  li^ai,  with:,  i  /•  ; 


C        !42        J 

That  is— no  grand  commotions  fhook  oar  earth--*- 

Apoilo  dancM  no  hornpipe  at  her  birth, 

To  fay  to  what  perfection  ihe  was  born  ; 

What  wit,  what  wifdom  Ihould  the  nymph  adorn  : 

No  bees  around  her  lips  in  clutters  hung, 

To  tell  the  future  iweetnefs  of  her  tongue : 

Around  her  cradle  perch' d  no  cooing  dove, 

To  mark  the  foul  of  innocence  and  love ; 

No  fmiling  cupids  round  her  cradle  play'd, 

To  ihow  the  future  conquefts  of  the  maid ; 

Whofe  charms  would  make  the  jealous  fex  her  foes, 

And,  with  their  lightnings,  blafl  a  thoufhnd  beaus. 

Indeed,  the  Mufe  mud  own,  a  trifling  pother 

Sprung  up  between  the  father  and  the  mother; 

For,  after  taking  methods  how  to  gain  her, 

They  knew  not,  how  the  devil  to  maintain  her. 

Heav'ns !  what  ?  no  prodigy  attend  her  birth, 
Who  awes  the  greateil  palace  upon  earth  ! 
Yes !— a  black  cat  around  the  bantling  fquawl'd, 
Join' d  its  young  cries,  and  all  the  houfe  appalPd : 
Wow  here,  now  there,  he  fprung,  with  vifage  wild, 
And  made  a  bold  attempt  to  kifs  the  child: 
Bats  pour'd,  in  hideous  hofts,  into  the  room, 
And  imp-like,  flitting,  form'd  a  fudden  gloom ; 
Then  to  the  cradle  ruuYd  the  darkening  throng, 
And,  raptnr'd,  Ihriek'd  congratulating  long, 

-"  Which  long,  in  concert  with  the  fqualis  of  pufs, 
Seem'd,  in  "plain  German,  "Thou  art  one  of  m" 
In  Strelitz  firft  this  dnrne  the  light  efpy'd, 
Born  to  a  good  inheritance — of  pride ; 
For,  howe'er  paradoxical  it  i>e, 
PRIDE  pigs  with  people  of  a  lo^  degree, 
As  well  as,  with  your  folks  of  foitune,  ftruts ; 

-   Like  rats,  that  live  in  palaces,  or  huts ; 
Or  bugs,  an  animal  of  pompous  gait, 
That  dwell  in  beds  of  draw,  or  beds  of  -{late ; 
lir  monkies  vile,  whole  tooth  in  i'^s, 

Iftow  with  Ananas^  now  with  rotten  apples. 


Hail,  Proteus   Pride,  whofe   vnrious  pow'rs  of  throat, 

Can  fwell  the  trumpet's  loud  raid  faucy  note; 

And,  if  a  meaner  air  can  ferve  thy  turn, 

In  panting,  quiv'nng  founds  of  Jews'  harps,  mourn ! 

Hail,  Pride;  companion  of  the  great  and  little! 

So  abje<5t  who  can'ft  lick  a  patron's  fpittle ; 

Whine,  like  a  fneaking  puppy,  at  his  door. 

And  turn  the  hind  part  of  thy.  wig  before; 

Nay,  if  lie  orders,  turn  it  infide  out, 

And  wear  it,  Merry-Andrew-like,  about; 

Heed  not  the  grinning  world  a  fingle  rufn, 

But  bear  its  pointed  fcorn,  without  a  bluih. 

Yet  fain  wou'dll  thou  the  crouching  world  beflride, 

Tuft  like  the  RHODIAN  BULLY  o'er  the  tide;] 

The  brazen  wonder  of  the  world  of  yore, 

That'  proudly  ftretch'd  his  legs  from  fhore  to  ihore, 

And  law  of  Greece  the  loftieft  navy  travel, 

In  dread  fubmiilion,  underneath  his  navel. 

So  much  for  Pride — great,  little,  humble,  vain; 
And  now  for  Madam  Swellenberg  again. 

Whether  the  Nymph  could  ever  boaft  a  grace. 
That  deign'd  to  pay  a  vifit  to  her  face, 
The  Mule  is  ignorant,  me  mud  allow; 
Yet  knows  this  truth,  that  not  one  fparkles  now: 
If  ever  beauties,  in  delight  excelling, 
Charm' d  on  her  cheek,  they  long  have  left  their  dwelling. 
This  Nymph,  a  mantua maker  was,  I  ween, 
And  priz'd,  'for  cheapnefs,  by  our  faving  Queen, 
Who — (where's  the  mighty  harm  of  loving  money  ?}-*" 
Brought  her  to  this  fair  land  of  milk  and  honey. 
And  plac'd  her  in  a  molt  important  fphere — 
Infpectrefs  Gen'ral  of  the  royal  gser. 
Soon  as  this  woman  heard  the  Loufe's  Kile, 
At  once  fiie  turn'd,  like  walls  of  plafler,  pale. 
But  firfl:  th  .  v  the  gobbled, 

And  then,  to  feck  the  LORD'S  ANNOINTED,  hobbled, 
HIM  full  of  wrath,  like  Pcleus'  fan,  of  yore. 
When  Agamemnon  took  away  his  v/h — ^ 


[        144        ] 

lii  all  the  bitternefs  of  wrath,  {he  found ; 
The  Queen  and  Royal  children  flaring  round. 

"  O  Swelly"  thus  the  madden'd  Monarch  roar'd, 
WhiJil  wild  impfitience  wing'd  the  rapid  word ; 
For  lo!  the  folemn  Monarch* -of  graceful  fpeech, 

The  KING  long  lince  had  bid  to  kits  his  b~ ch. 

The  broken  language,  that  his  mouth  affords, 
Are  heads  and  tails,  and  legs  and  wings  of  words, 
lhat  give  imagination's  laughing  eye 
A^  lively  pidu^  of  a  gibkt  pye. 

"  O  Swelly,  Swelly"  cry'd  the  furious  King, 
"  What!  what  a  dirty,  filthy,  natty  thing! 
"  That  thus  you  come  to  eaie  rny  angry  mind, 
44  Indeed  is  very,  very,  very  kind. 
44  What's  your  opinion,  ha;  V"  the  Monarch  rav'd— 
44  Yes,  yes,  the  cooks  ihall  ev'ry  one  be  ftiav'd— 
44  What!  what!  has!  ha?!  now' tell  me,  Swelly?  pray— 
44  Shan't  I  be  right  in't — What!  what!  Swelly,  h^e? 
4i  Yes,  yes,  I'm  fure  on't,  by  the  Loufe's  looks, 
44  That  he  beiong'd  to  fome-one  of  the  cooks— 
"  Speak,  Swelly^  lhan't  we  iliave  each  iilthy  jowl! 
**  Yes,  yes,  and  that  we  will,  upon  my  foul." 

To  whom  the  DAME,  with  elevated  chin, 
Wide-flaring  eyes,  and  broad,  contemptuous  grin: 

'"  Yes,  fure  as  dat  my  foul  is  to  be  fav'd, 
44  So  fure  de  dirty  rafcals  fal  be  fhav'd — 
*c  Shav'd  to  de  quick  be  ev^ry  moder's  fon — 
44  And  curfe  me,  if  /  do  not  fee  it  done  : 
"  De  barbers  foon  der  nafty  locks  fali  fall  on, 
"  Nor  leave  one  (landing,  for  a  Loufe  to  cnivvl  on. 
44  If  on  der  skulls  de  razor  do  not  ihine, 
44  May  gowns  and  petticoats  no  more  be  mine-- 
44  Curls,  clubs,  and  pigtails,  all  fall  £o  to  pot, 
44  For  fu-h  curs''d  luiilinefs,  or  I'll  be  rot; 
*fc  Or  elfe  to  Strjiitz  let  me  quickly  ily, 
44  Dr.:  Dunt;l;'.il,  dat  poor  pi^hotife  to  vie  eye  ; 


[        '45       3 

**  Where  from  his  own  mock  trone  de  Prince  fo  great, 

"  Can  jump  into  anoier  Prince  edate— 

•'  Yes,  by  de  Got  dat  male  dis  eart  and  me, 

"  No  fugle  loufy  raical  iai  go  free/' 

Reader,  thou  raifed  both  thy  marv'ling  eyes, 
In  all  the  daring  wildnefs  of  lurprife; 
As  if  the  poet  did  not  truth  revere, 
And  fancied,  $entl>-Wdinen  couid  notfwear: 
Go,  fool,  and  feek  the  ladies,  of  the  mud, 
Queens  of  the  lakes,  or  damfels  of  the  flood : 
Nymphs,  Nereids,  or  what  vulgar  tongues  call  drabs, 
Who  vend  at  Biilingfgnte  their  fprats  and  crabs ; 
'Tell  them  their  lilh  all  dink,  and  thou  wilt  hear 
Whether  that  gentlewomen  ever  iwear: 
Nay,  vifit  many  of  our  courtly  dames, 
When  watb  their  dove-like  gentlenefs  inflames; 
Lo !  thou  fnalt  h'nd,  by  ninny  a  naughty  word, 
They  ufe  final  I  ceremony  with  the  Lord, 
In  fpite  of  all  that  godly  books  contain, 
That  teach  them  not  to  take  hh  naaia  i;i  vain. 
*4  Thanks,  Shelly 9  thanks,   thank*,   thank*,"    the  KJM 


"  Like  me,  you  have  not  got  a  grain  of  pride, 
"  Yes,  yes,  if  I  am  Mader  of  this  boufe; 

"  Yes,  yes,  the  locks  (hall  fail,  and  then  die  Loufe." 

He  fpoke— and  to  confirm  the  dreadful  doom, 
His  head  he  lliook;  that  ihook  the  dining-room. 
Thus  JOVE  of  old,  the  dread,  the  thund'ring  GOD, 
Shook,  when  he  (wore,  Olympus  with  his  nod, 

"  Yes, (cry' d  the  King)  yes,  yes,  their  curls  fliall  quake; 
"  But   tell   me,   where,   \vhere,   whereas    Sir    FK.ANCJS 

DRAKE  ?" 

O,  Reader,  think  not  'twas  that  Drake— Sir  Francis— 
Whole  wond'rous  actions  feem  u  I'm  oil:  romances  ; 
Who  llione  in  fenfe  profound,  and  bloodied  wars, 
And  rais'd  the  Nation's  glory  to  tlie  flars: 


Who  fol:  in  triumph  fail'd  around  the  world, 
And  vengeance,  on  the  foes  of  Britain,  hurPds 
But  HE,  who,  fculks  around  the  Royal  kitchen, 

f  he  catch  a  neighbour's  dog  or  bitch  in, 
Lets  fly,  to  ftrike  the  four-legg'd  mumper  dead, 
A  poker,  or  a  cleaver,  at  his  head.— 
Not  that  Sir  FRANCIS  DRAKE,  who  god-like,  bore 
Fair  Freedom,  Science,  to  th'  Atlantic  ihore : 

••j.gans  gave  tbe  GoibePs  faving  grace, 
/    c!  planted  Viitue  'midffca  barb'rous  race; 
Spread  on  ken'd  realms  the  blaze  of  light — 

.  e.e  fpoons  and  plates  are  bright; 
Sees  tba       ..  ;Ung  and  Queen, 

Are,  like  tiie  pair  of  Royal  liomaehs,  keen: 
Not  he,  whole  martial  frown  whole  kingdoms  {hook, 
But  he,  whole  lowering  vifage  lhakes  a  cook: 
'Not  he,  wno  .pour'd  on  Mexico  his  tars, 
But  he,  at  London,  who  with  linen  wars:1 
Napkins  and  damask  table-cloths  a  flails 
With  fciifors,  razors,  knives,  and  teeth,  arid  nails; 
Who  dares,  with  Doilies,  defp'rate  war  to  wage: 
•Such  is  his  province  and  domeftic  rage, 
If,  like  his  predecefibrs,  he  hath  grace, 
And  calls  his  conquefts,  perquijltes  of  place  — 
'Twas  not  that  Drake,  who  bid  his  daring  crew 
Hun,  with  their  bayonets,  the  Spaniards  througb ; 
But  that  important  Drake,  in  office  big, 
Inftrufting  cooks,  to  fpit  a  goofe,  or  pig : 
Not  he,  who  took  the  Spaniards  by  the  nofe, 
And  prifons  fill'd  with  Britain's  gvacelcfs  foes ; 
But  he,  who  bids  the  ge^fe,  his  prisoners,  die, 
And  fluffs  their  legs  and  gizzards  in  a  pie : 
/J>,- who,  three  times  a  week,  .a  green-cloth  Lord, 
Sits,  wifdom-fraught,  at  that  important  board, 
With  wife  Compeers,  in  judge-like  order  iludying, 
Whether  the  King  {hall  h;v  e  a  tart  or  pudding. 
'I'was  this  Sir  Francis,  quite  a  different  man 
From  him,  who  round  the  world,  with  glory  ran — 
Forbid  it,  Heav'n !  that  e'er  the  MUSE  untrue 
Should  give,  to  any  man,  auetlu'r's  due.. 


I        '47       1 

MUSE,  leave  we  now  the  Monarch,  vengeance  brewing, 
To  take  a  peep  at  what  the  cooks  were  doing* 

In  that  *  fnug  room,  the  fcene  of  fhrewd  remark,   * 
Whofe  window" flares  upon  the  faunt'ring  park; 
Where  many  a  hungry  bard,  and  gambling  Tinner, 
In  chop-fall'ii  fadnefs,  counts  the  trees  for  dinner: 
In  that  fnug  room*,  where  any  man  of  fpnnk 
Would  find  it  a  hard  matter  to  get  f  drunk ; 
Where  coy  Tokay  ne'er  feels  a  cook's  embraces, 
Nor  Port,  nor  Claret  (how  their  rofy  faces; 
But  where  old  Adam's  bev'rage  flows  with  pride, 
From  wide-mouth'd  pitchers,  in  a  plenteous  tide ; 
Where  veal,  pork,  mutton,  beef,  and  fowl  and  fifa. 
All  club  their  joints,  to  make  one  hand  fome  difli  : 
Where  (lew-pan  covers  ferve  for  plates,  I  ween, 
And  knives  and  forks '-and  fpoons  are  never  feen: 
Where  pepper  iflues  from  a  paper  bag, 
And,  for  a  crewet,  (lands  a  brandy  cagr 
Where  Madam  SWELLENBERG  too  often  fits, 
Like  fome  old  tabby  in  her  moufing  fits, 
Demurely  fquinting  with  majeftic  mien, 
To  catch  fome  fault,  to  carry  to  the  QUEEN: 

In  that  fnug  room,  like  thofe  immortal  Greeks, 
Of  whom,  in  book  the  thirteenth,  OVID  fpeaks — 
Around  the  cable,  -all  with  fulkey  looks, 
Like  Culprits  doom'd  to  Tyburn,  fat  the  cooks, 
At  length,  with  phiz,  that  fliow'd  the  man  of  woes, 
The  forr'wtng  King  of  fpits  and  ftewpans  rofe : 
Like  PAUL  at  Athens,  very  iuflly  fainted, 
And  by  the  charming  bruih  of  Raphael  painted, 
With  out-ftretch'd  hands,  and  energetic  grace, 
He,  fearlefs,  thus  harangues  the  ROASTING  RACE; 
Whilft  gaping  round,  in  mute  attention,  fit 
The  poor  forlorn  difciples  of  the  fpit. 
"  Cooks !  fcullions !  hear  me,  ev'ry  mother's  fon — 
"  Know,  that  I  relifh  not  this  Royal  fun. 

*  The  Larder.  f  This  will  be  deemed  ftrangc  by 

my  country  readers— but,  It  is,  neverthelefs,  true. 


C       148      3 

*'  GEORGE  thinks  us  fcarcely  fit  ('tis  very  clear) 

"  To  carry  guts,  my  brethren,  to  a  bear.'" 

"  Guts  to  a  bear!"  the  Cook  upfpringing,  cry'd— » 

**"  Guts  to  a  bear!"   the  Major  loud  reply'd.  * 

"  Guts  to  the  devil !"  roar'd  the  cooks  again, 

And  tofs'd  their  nofes  high,  in  proud  difdiiin: 

The  plain  translation  of  whofe  pointed  nofes 

The  reader  needeth  not,  the  bard  fuppofes: 

But  if  the  reafon  fome  dull  render  looks, 

'Tis  this — wharever  Kings  may  think  of  cooks, 

Howe'ercrown'd  heads  may  deem  them  low-born  things  \ 

Cooks  are  poflefs'd  of  fouls,  as  well  as  Kings.  . 

Yet  are  there  fome,  who  think  (bnt  ihhat  a  fhame!} 

Poor  people's  fouls,  like  pence  of  Birmingham, 

Adulterated  brafs — bafe  ftuiF— -abhorr'd — 

That  never  can  pafs  current  with  the  LORD  ; 

And  think,  becaufe  of  wealth  thy  boall  a  (lore, 

With  ev'ry  freedom  they  may  treat  the  poor; — 

Witnefs  the  ftory,  that  my  Miife,  with  tears, 

Relates,  <)  Reader,  to  thy  fnrinking  ears. 

With  feeble  voice,  and  deep,  defpondfng  (Ighs, 

With  fallow  cheek,  and  pity-asking  eyes, 

A  wretch,  by  age  and  poverty  decay'd, 

For  farthings  lately  to  a  NABOB  pray'd : 

The  NABOB,  turkey  like,  began  to  fwell. 

And  damn'd  the  beggar  to  the  pit  of  hell. 

"  Oh!  Sir,"  the  Supplicant  was  heard  to  cry, 

(The  tear  of  mis'ry  trickling  from  his  eye) 

"  Tbo'  I'm  in  rage,  and  wond'rous,  wond'rous  poor, 

46  And  you  with  gold  and  (ilver  cover'd  o'er, 

*'  There  won't,  in  heav'n,  fuch  difference  take  place, 

"  When  we  before  the  LORD  come  face  to  face. 

"  Ton  face  to  face  face  with  we?"  the  Nabob  cry'd? 

In  all  the  infolence  of  upftart  pride: 

"  Tou  face  to  face  with  me,  you  dog,  appear? 

"  Damme!  I'll  kick  you  if  I  catch  you  there.'T 

Oh,  (hocking  blafphemy!  oh,  horrid  fpeech ! 

Where  was  the  fellow  born?  the  wicked  wretch? 

So  black  an  imp  would  pull,  I  do  fuppofe, 

A  bulfe  of  di'monds  from  a  BEGUM'S  nofe; 


C      149      ] 

Or  make,  like  DOULAH,  carelefs  of  his  foul, 
A  new  edition  of  the  old  Black  Hole. 

*  What's  life,  (the  Major  faid,)  my  brethren,  prayf 
c  If  force  mud  fnatch  our  fird  delights  away  ? 

*  Relentlefs  ftiall  the  Royal  mandate  drag 

*  The  hairs,  that  long  have  grac'd  this  filken  bagf 

*  Hairs,  to  a  barber  fcarcely  worth  a  fig  ; 
6  Too  few,  to  make  a  foretop  for  a  wig  ! 

*  MuO:  razors  vile,  thefe  locks,  fo  fcanty,  fhave, 
6  Locks,  that  I  wifh  to  carry  to  my  grave  ? 

*  Hairs— (look  my  lads) — fo  wonderfully  thin — 

*  Old  SWELLENBERG  hath  more  upon  her  chin  ?" 

*  Yes,  that  (he  hath,  (exclaim' d  a  Cook)  by  G-d, 

*  A  damn'd  old  German,  good-for-nothing  toad. 

6  Yes,  yes,  her  mouth  with  beard  divinely  bridles ; 

*  Curie  me  !  I'd  rather  kifs  a  bunch  of  thiftles« 

*  Oh  !  were  it  but  his  Majedy's  commands, 

fc  To  give  her  gentle  jawbones  to  thefe  hands  ; 
4  I'd  {have  her,  like  a  punifh'd  foldier,  dry  ; 

*  No  killing  fow  ihould  make  a  fvveeter  cry  ; 
4  I'd  pay  my  compliments  to  madam's  chin ; 

*  I'll  anfwer  for't,  Fd  make  the  devil  grin  ; 

*  The  razor  mod  delicioufly  ihould  work  ; 

4  I'd  trim  her  muzzle  ;  yes,  I'd  fcrape  her  pork  ; 
4  I'd  teach  her,  to  feme  purpofe,  to  behave  ; 
-*  And  iliow  the  witch  the  nature  of  a  {have  : 

*  O!  woman,  woman  !   whether  lean  or  fat, 

*  In  face  an  angel \  but  in  foul  a  cat? 

He  ended— when  each  mouth,  upon  the  dretch, 
'Crown'd,  with  a  loud  faorfe-laugh,  the  claffic  fpeech. 

"Too  foon,  alas !  refentment  feizM  the  hour, 
And  Joke  refign'd  his  grin-provoking  povv'r; 
Hage  dimra'd  of  mirth  the  fuclden  funny  sky, 
And  filPd  with  gloomy  clouds  each  fcowling  eye  : 
Whild  GRIEF  returning  took  her  turn  to  reign, 
Sunk  ev'ry  heart,  and  fadden'd  ev'ry  mein  : 
Drew,  from  their  giddy  heights,  the  laughing  graces; 
^For  much  h  grief  difpos'd  to  bring  down  faqes, 
O 


C      150      3 

€  Son  of  the  fpit,"  the  Major,  flrutting,  cry'*d5 
1  I  like  thy  fpirit,  and  revere  thy  pride  : 
;  I'd  rather  hear  thee,  than  a  Biiliop  preach  ; 
'  For  thou  hafl  made  a  very  pretty  fpeech. 

Such  is  the  language,  that  the  Gods  Ihould  hear  ; 
f  And  fuch  {hould  thunder  on  the  Royal  ear. 
•  Yet,  (fon  of  dripping  !)  though,  thou  fpeak'ft  my  no* 

'  tions, 

:  We  muft  not  be  too  nimble  in  our  motions; 
;  Awhile,  heroic  brothers,  let  us  halt'; 

Soft  fires,-  the  proverb  tells  us,  make  good  malt. 

And  yet  again  1  bid  you  Hand  like  rocks,, 

And  battle  for  the  honour  of  your  locks. 

Lo  !  in  thefe  aged  hairs  Is  all  my  joy  ; 

To  fhaye  them,  is  my  Being  to  deftroy. 

What's  life,  if  life  has  not  a  blifs  to  give  ; 

And  if  unhappy,  who  would  wifh  to  live  ? 

Content  can  vifit  the  poor  fpider'd  room, 

Pleas' d  with  the  coarfe  rufh  mat  and  birchen  broom, ; 

Where  parents,  children,  feaft  on  oaten  bread, 

With  cheeks,  as  round  as  apples,  and  as  red  : 

Where  health^  .  with  vigor,   nerves    their  backs   and 
*  hams, 

Sweet  fquls  !  though  ragged  as. young  colts  or  rams  ; 

Where  calmly  lleep  the  parents,  with  their  darlings, 

Tho'  nibbled  by  the  fleas  as  thick  as  darlings  ; 

Lull'd  to  their. reft,  beneath  the  coarfefl  rugs, 

Dead  to  die  bitings  of  a  jhoufand  .bugs,, 

*  Content,  mild  maid  1  delights  in  fimple  things, 
And  .envies  not  the  date  of  Queens  or  Kings  : 
Can  dine  on  fheep's  head,  or  a  dllh  of  broth, 
Without  a  table,  or  a  table-cloth  : 
Nor  wifhes,  with  the  failiionable  group e, 
To  vifit  MORTON'S  (hop  for  turtle  foupe  : 
Can  ufe  a  bit  of  packthread  for  a  jack, 
And  fit  upon  a  chair  without  a  back: 
Nay,  wanting  knives,  can  with  her  fingers  work. 
And  ufe  a  wooden  skewer  for  a  fork. 
Sweet  maid  I  who  thinks  not  (hoes  of  leather  {hocking. 
Nor  feels  the  horrors  of  a  wojfted  flocking  ? 


E      151      3 

*  Her  temper  mild,  no  huckabuck  can  {hock, 

*  Tho'  tor  her  lovely  limbs  it  forms  a  fmock  : 

*  Pleas'd  with  the  nat'ral  curls,  her  face  that  {hade, 

*  No  graves  are  robb'd,  for  hair,  to  make  a  braid  : 

*  Her  breaft,  of  native  plumpnefs,  ne'er  afpires 

4  To  fwelling  merry-thoughts  of  gauze  and  wires, 
*To  look  like  crops  of  ducks,  (with  labor  borne) 

*  Stretch* d  by  a  fiiperfluity  of  corn. 

*  With  Nature's  hips,  Ihe  fighs  not  for  c&rk  rumps? 
4  An  i  fcorns  the  pride  of  pinching  flays  or  jumps  ; 

*  But  pleas' d  from  whalebone  prifons  to  efcape, 

*  She  trulls  to  fnnple  nature,  for  a  lhape  ; 

*  Without  a  warming-pan,  can  go  to  bed  ; 

*  And  wrap  her  petticoat  about  her  head  ; 

*  Nor  figh  fur  cobweb  caps  of  Mechlin  lace, 

*  That  {hade  of  quality,  the  varniuYd  face : 

*  Sweet  nymph,  like  doves,  {he  feeks  her  ftraw-built 

4  neil, 

*  And,  in  a  pair  of  minutes,  is  undreft  ; 

*  Whilfl  all  the  fashionable  female  clans, 

*  Undrefling,  feem  unloading  caravans. 

*  No  matter,  from  what  fource  Contentment  fprings, 

*  'Tis  juft  the  fame  in  Cooks,  as  'tis  in  Kings  ; 
4  And  if  our  fouls  are  fet  upon  our  hair, 

f  Let  fnip-fnap  barbers,  nay,  let  Kings,  beware, 

*  Nor  tempt  the  dang'rous  rage  of  true  John  Bulls, 

*  And  clap,  like -fools,  the  edge-tools  to  our  skulls. 

*  Tread  on  a  worm,  he  (hows  his  rage  and  pain, 

*  By  turning  on  the  wounding  toe  again  : 
4  Nay,  e'en  inanimates  appear  to  feel — 

c  On  the  loofe  ftone,  if  chance  dire' ft'  your  heel, 
'  Lo  !  from  its  womb  the  fudden  ftream  afcends, 
4  To  prove,  the  foot  -was  not  among  its  friends  ; 
4  And  calling  in  the  aid  of  neighbour  mud, 

*  O'er  the  fair  {lockings  fpouts  the  fable  flood." 

•So  fpoke  the  Major,  with  refcntment  fir'd — 
Spoke  like  a  man— indeed  like  man  infpird  I 
Some  critic  cries,  with  {harp,  faftidious  look, 
4  J3ard,  bard,  this  is  not  language  for  a  cook." 
Oa 


C      '5*      3 

f)  fnarler  I  but  I'll  lay  thee  any  wager, 
It  is  not  too  fublime  for  a  Cook-Major. 

c  Behold  !  to  remedy  our  fad  condition,9 
The  Major  cry'd,  6  Fve  cook'd  up  a  Petition  :- 

*  This  carries  wait  with  it,  or  I'm  miftaken  : 

*  Shall  {hake  the  Monarch's  foul,  and  fave  our  bacon 
Then  jumping  on  a  barrel,  thus  aloud 

He  read  fonorous  to  the  gaping  croud. 

Thus  rea^ls  a  pariih  clerk,  in  church*  a  brief. 
That  begs,  for  burnt-out  wretches'  kind  relief;: 
Relief,  alas  !  that  very  rarely  reaches 
The  poor  petitioners,  the  ruin'd  wretches  : 
But  (loft  its  way)  unfortunately  ft'eers 
To  fat  church-wardens,  or  fat  overfeers  ; 
Improves  each  diih,  augments  the  punch  and  ale* 
And  adds  new  fpirir  to  the  fmutty  tale.. 


T  H  £ 

PETITION  OF   THE  COOKS; 


OUR  Majefly's  firm  friends  and  faltnful  cooks,. 

Who,  in  your  Palace,  merry  liv'd  as  grigs, 
Have  heard,  with  heavy  hearts,  and  down-cart  looks,. 

That  we  mud  all  be  fbav'd,  and  put  on  wigs. 
Tou9  Sire,  who  with  fuch  honor  wertr  yaur  Crowiv 
Should  never  bring,  on  our's,  difgracc-s  down. 

Dread  Sir !  we  really  deem  our  heads  our  own, 
With  ev'ry  fprig  of  hair,  that  on  them  fprings. 

In  France,  where  men,  like  fpaniels,  lick  the  Throve, 
And  count  it  Glory  to  be  cuf'd  by  Kings, 

Their  locks  belong  unto  the  Grand  Mo 

Who  fvvaliows  privilege^  like  a  iliark. 


C        153       3 

Be  pleas'd  to  pardon  what  we  now  Advance  ; 

We  dare  your  facred  Majefty  allure, 
That  there's  a  difference  'twixt  us  and  France ; 

And  long,  we  hope,  that  difference  will  endure. 
We  know,.  King  Louis  would,  with  pow'r  fo  dread. 
Not  only  cut  the  hair  off,  but  the  head* 

Oh  !  tell  us,  Sir,  in  loyalty  fo  true, 

What  dire,  defigning  raggamnffins  faid, 
That  We,  your  Cooks,  are  fuch  a  nafty  crew? 

Great  Sir  !  as  to  have  crawlers  on  our  head  ? 
My  Liege,  you  can't  find  one,  thro'  all  our  houfe  ; 
Not,  if  you'd  give  a  guinea  for  a  loufe. 

What  creature  'twas,  you  found  upon  your  plate, 
We  know  not:  if  a  loufe,- it  was  Hot  our's. 

To  {have  each  Cook's  poor,  unoffending  pate, 
Betrays  too  much  of  afbitrary  pow'rs. 

The  aft,  humanity  and  jnftice  fhocks  : 

Let  him,  who  owns  the  crawler,  lofe  his  locks. 

But  grant,  upon  your  plate  this  Loufe  fo  dread  ; 

How  can  you  fay,  Sir,  it  belongs  to  Us  ? 
Maggots  are  found  in  many  a  princely  head  : 

And  if  a  maggot,  why  then  not  a  loufe  ? 
Nay,  grant  the  faft ;  with  horror,  fhould  you  Ihrink  ? 
It  could  not  eat  your  Majefly,  we  think, 

1 1  linger,  ray  Liege,  hath  oft  been  felt  by  kings, 

As  well  as  people  of  inferior  (late  ; 
Quarrels  with  cooks  are  therefore  dang'rous  things  $ 

We  cannot  anfwer  for  your  ilomnch's  fate  : 
For,  by  your  fize,  we  frankly  mud  dechre, 
You  feed  on  more  fubftantial  (luff,  than  air, 

My  Liege,  an  Univerfe  hath  been  your  foes  : 

The  rimes  have  look'd  moft  miferably  black  ; 
Ameri.  a  h    h  try'd  to  pull  your  nofe  ; 

French,  Dutch,  and  Spaniards,   try'd  to  bang;  your 
bajk  : 

03 


L        154        ] 

'Twould  be  a  ferfous  matter,  we  can  tell  you, 
Were  we  to  buccaneer  it  on  your  belly, 

You  fee  the  fpirit  of  your  cooks,  then,  Sire  ; 

Determined,  nobly  to  fupport  their  locks  : 
And,  fhould  your  guards  be  order' d  out,  to  fir£, 

Their  guns  may  be  oppos'd  by  fpits  and  crocks  : 
Knives,    forks,    and  fpoons,   may  fly,    with  plates— 

itore  : 
And  all  the  thunder  of  the  kitchen  roar. 

Nat.  Gardner,  Yeoman  of  the  mouth,  declares, 
He'll  join  the  ftandard  of  your  injured  cooks  ; 

Each  fcullion,  tournebroche,  for  redrefs  prepares, 
And  puts  on  very  formidable  looks  ; 

Young  women,  too— imprimis,  Mrs.  Dyer, 

Whofe  eggs  are  good,  as  ever  felt  a  lire  : 

Next  Sweeper-gen'ral  Bickley,  Mrs.  Mary, 

With  that  tam'd.  bell-ringer,  calPd  Mrs.  Loman  ; 

Ann  Spencer,  guardian  of  the  NeceiTaryv 
That  is  to  fay,  the  neceffary- woman  ; 

All  thefe,  an't  pleafe  you,  Sir,  fo  fierce  determine    - 

To  join  us,  in  the  caufe  of  hair  and  vermine, 

There's  Mrs,  Stewart— Mr.  Richard  Day, 
Who  find  your  facred  Majefty  in  linen, 

Are  ready  to  fupport  us  in  our  fray  : 
You  can't  conceive  the  paffion,  they  have  been  in. 

They  ("wear — fo  much  your  fcheme  of  {having  hurts — 

\ou  ilia' n't  have  pocket  handkerchiefs,  or  thins. 

The  grocers,  Clarke,  and  Taylor,  curfe  the  fcheme, 
And  fay,  whate'er  we  do,  the  world  won't  blame  us 

$Q  Comber  fays,  who  gives  you  milk  and  cream — 
And  thus  your  old  friend,  Mr.  Lewis  llamus. 

We  think,  your  fr.crecl  Majefly  would  mutter, 

At  Igfs  of  fiig^fj  liiilk;  sud  cream,  and  butter. 


C         155        3 

Suppofc,  aii't  pleafe  you,  Sir,  that  Miftrels  Knutton, 
And  Miftrcfs  Marihfield,  fierce  as  tyger-cats ; 

One,  Overfeer  of  all  the  beef  and  mutton  ; 
The  other,  Lady  Preiident  of  fprats  ; 

Suppofe,  in  oppofitlon  to  your  wifn, 

Thi*  locks  away  the  ilefti,  "and  That  the  fifti  ! 

Suppofe,  John  Clarke  refufe  fupplies  of  milliard,* 
So  necellary  to  your  beef,  and  bacon  ; 

Will.  Roberts,  all  the  apple-pie  and  cuftard  ; 
Your  Ma  jetty  would  growl,  or  we're  miftaken. 

Suppofe,  that  Wells,  a  Ihibborn  temper  Undying,  ^ 

Should  take  the  plumbs  off  from  the  Sunday  pudding  ! 

Suppofe,  that  Rainsforth,  with  our  corps,  unites  ; 

We  mean  the  man,  who  all  the  tallow  handles  ; 
Suppofe,  he,  daring,  locks  up  all  the  lights  ; 

How  could  your  Majeily  contrive,  for  candles  i 
You'd  be— (excufe  the  freedom  of  remark) — 
Like  fome  Adminiftrations— in  the  dark. 

\\re  dare  afTure  yoa,  that  our  gnef  is  great : 
And  o!t,  indeed,  our  feelings  it  enrages, 

To  fee  your  facred  Majefty  befet, 

By  fuch  a  gracelefs  gang  of  idle  pages  : 

And,  with  fubmiflion  to  your  judgment,  Sire, 

We  think  old  Madam  Swellenberg  a  liar. 

Suppofe,  great  Sire,  that,  by  your  cruel  /}'/?/, 
The  barbers  Ihoukl  attack  our  humble  head  ; 

And  that  we  mould  not  chufe  to  breed  a  riot, 
Becaufe  we  might  not  with  to  lofe  our  bread  ; 

Say,  would  the  triumph,  o'er  each  harmlefs  Cook^ 

Make  George  the  Third,  like  Alexander,  look  ? 

D:ead  Sir,  refleft  on  Johnny  Wilkes'  fate  ; 

Supported  chiefly  by  a  paltry  rabble, 
Wilkes  bade  defiance  to  your  frowns  and  (late  ; 

And  got  the  better,  in  that  famous  fquabble. 
Poor  was  the  victory,  you  wiuYd  to  win, 
Tint  ice  the  mouth  of  iuuo^e  on  the  grin. 


C      J55      ] 

G  King,  our  wives  are  in  the  kitchen,  roaring, 

All  ready  in  rebellion,  now  to  rife-- 
They  mock  our  humble  method  of  imploring, 

And  bid  us  guard  againft  a  wig-furprife  : 
*  Your's  is  the  hair  (they  cry)  th'  Almighty  gave  you-; 
5  And  not  a  King  in  ChrJftendonj  fhould  ihave  you,' 

Lo  !  on  thVvent,  the  world  impatient  looks, 
And  thinks  the  joke  is  carry' d  much  too  far. 

Then,  pray,  Sir,  liften  to  your  faithful  Cooks  ; 
Nor,  in  the  palace,  breed  a  civil  war. 

Loud  roars  our  band,  and,  obltinate  as  pigs, 

Cry,  '  Locks  find  Liberty  /'  and  *  Damn  the  JFigi  f 


POETICAL  AND  CONGRATULATORY 

i 


E      P      I     S      T     L      E, 


T  0 


JAMES    B  O  S  W  E  L  L, 


ON   HIS 


JOURNAL  OF  A  TOUR  TO  THE  HEBRIDES 


V7JTII  TttS  CELEBRATED 


n  R.     J    O    II    N    S    O    N. 


A 


POETICAL   EPISTLE, 


T  .0 


J  A  ME  S     B  O  S  W  E  L  L, 


<J 


B^S'VELL,  Bozzy,  Bruce*,  whate'er  rhy  name, 
'hou'4'h  mighty  {hark  for  anecdote  and  fame  : 
f  hou  Jacka-1,  leading  lion  Johnfon  forth, 
'o  eat  M'Pherfon  f  'mi  aft  his  native  North  ; 
'o  fright.  n  grave  profeflbrs,  with  his  roar, 

nd  ihake  the  Hebrides,  from  fliore  to  fhore  — 

:l  hail  !--At  length,  ambitious  Thane,  thy  rage, 
To  give  one  fpark  to  Fame's  befpangled  page, 
s  amply  gratify'd—  a  thdufand  eyes 

urvey  thy  book,  with  rapture  and  furprife  ! 

oud,  of  thy  Tour,  a  thoufand  tongues  have  fpolccn, 
And  wonder'  d—  that,  thy  bones  were  never  broken  ! 

*  Vide  Note,  page  16. 

t  The  translator  (hut,  in  Dr.  Jobnfon's  opinion,  the  author) 
tf  the  Poems  attributed  to  OSSIAN. 


C       t«o        3 

Triumphant,  tliou  thro'  Time's  vaft.gulf  ihalt  faify 
The  pilot  of  our  literary  whale  ; 
Clofe  to  the  claftic  Rambler,  {halt  thou  cling, 
Ciofe,  as  a  fupple  courtier  to  a  king  ! 
Fate  fnall  not  {hake  thee  off,  with  all  .its  pow'r, 
Stuck,  like  a  bat,  to  fome  old  ivy'd  tow'r. 
J^ay,  though  thy  Johnfon  ne'er  had  blefs'd  thy  eyes, 
Paoli's  deeds  had' rais'd  thee  to  the  skies  ! 
Yes  !  his  broad  wing  had  rais'd  tiiee,  (no  bad  hack) 
A  torn-tit,  twitt'fing  on  an  eagle's  back. 

Thou,  curious  fcrapmonger,  (halt  live,  in  fong, 
When  Death  has  (HUM  the  rattle  of  thy  tongue  ; 
Ev'n  future  babes  to  lifp  thy  name  {hall  learn, 
.And  Bozzy  join,  with  Wood  and  Tommy  Hearn, 
Who  drove  the  fpiders  from  much  profe  and  rhyme, 
And  fnatch'd  old  ftories  from  the  jaws  of  Time* 

-Sweet  is  thy  page*,  I  ween,  that  doth  recite, 
•How  thou  and  Johnfon,  arm  and  arm,  one  night, 
March' d  thro'  fair  Edinburgh's  Paftolian  {how'rs, 
While  Cloacina  bountifully  pours  ; 
Thofe  gracious  fiiow'rs,  that,  ifraught  with  fragrance 

flow, 

And  gild,  Hke  gingerbread,  the  world  ^below.'^ 
How  fweetly  grumbled,  too,  was  Sam's  remark, 
«  I  fmell  you, 'mailer  Bozzy,  in  the  dark,' 
X       Alas  !  hiflorians  are  confounded  dull, 
A  dim  Boeotia  reigns  in  ev'ry  skull  ; 
Mere  beads  of  burden,  broken-winded,  flow, 
Heavy,  as  dromedaries,  on  they  go  ; 
Whilft  thon,  a  Will-o'-wifp,  art  here,  art  there, 
Wild  darting  corufcations  ev'ry  where* 

Wlmt  tfiftelefs  mouth  can  gape,  what  eye  can  clofc, 
What  head  can  nod,  o'er  thy  enliv'ning^profe  ? 
To  other's  works,  the  works  of  thy  inditing 
Are  downright  df -monds,  to  the  eyes  of  Whiting* 


*  Vide  pare  rj. 


[      i<Ji      3 

Think  not  I  flatter  thee,  my  flippant  friend ; 

For  well  I  know,  that  flatt'ry  would  offend: 

Yet  honed  praife,  I'm  fure,  thon  would' ft  not  fluna, 

Born  with  a  ftomach  to  diged  a  tun ! 

Who  c&n  refufe  a  fmile,  that  reads  thy  page, 

Adhere  furiy  Sam,  enflam'd  with  Tory  rage, 

Nfiflhu  be-fcouiidrels,  2nd  with  an  anger  big, 

Swears,  Whigs  are  r  agues,  and  cv'ry  rogue  a  fifing* 

Who  will  not,  too,  thy  pen's  winuta  biefs, 

That  gives  poilerity  the  Rambler's  *  drefs? 

Mjthinks  I  view  his  full,  plain  fuit  of  brown, 

The  large,  grey,  bufhy  wig,  that  grac'd  his  crawn ; 

Black  worded '(lockings,  little  filver  buckles, 

And  fhirt,  that  had  no  ruffles  for  his  knuckles. 

I  mark  the  brown  great-coat  of  cloth  he  wore, 

That  two  huge  Patagonian  pockets  bore, 

Which  Patago'nians  (Vond'rous  to  unfold!) 

Would  fairly  both  his  Dictionaries  hold. 

I  fee  the  Rambler,  f  on  a  large  bay  mare, 

Juft  like  a  Centaur,  ev'ry  danger  dare ; 

On  a  full  gallop,  dafli  the  yielding  wind; 

The  colt  and  Bozzy  fcamp'ring  dole  behind, 

Of  Lady  Lochbuy,  §  \vitli  what  glee,  we  reaJ, 
Vv'ho  ofiei'd  Sana,  for  breakfail,  cold  fheep',1.  head1, 
Who,  .prefs"d  and  vrony'd  by  this  dame  ib  dvii, 
Wiih'd  the  ftieep's  head,  and  womaifs,  at  the  Devil, 

I  fee  you  failing  both  in  Buchan's,  f  I  pot- 
Now  Rorming  an  old  woman  §5  and  her  cot. 
Who,  terrify" d  at  .each  tremendous  ihapc, 
Deein'd  you  two  demons,  ready  for  a  rspe. 
I  fee  all  marv'l.ing  at  M'Leod's  together. 
On  Sam's  'remarks  ^*  on  whey,  and  tanning  leather, 
A  Corrichtuachirfs,  if  the  Lord  knows  how, 
i  fee  thee,  Bozzy,  drunk  as  David's  low, 


9-  t  P*  S7<^.  §  P.  Atr.  f| 


[        i<5»        3 

And  begging,  with  rais'd  eyes  and  lengthened 

Heav'n  not  to  damn  thee,  for  the  deadly  fin. 

I  fee,  too,  the  Hern  moralift  regale, 

And  pen  a  Latin  ode,  to  Mrs.  Thrale.  * 

I  fee,  without  a  night-cap  on  his  head, 

Rare  fight!  bald  Sam,  in  the  Pretender's  f  bed. 

I  hear  (what's  wonderful!)  unfought  by  ftudyings, 

His  clafiic  differtation  upon  pudding.  § 

Of  Prcvoft  Jopp,  f-l-  I  mark  the  marv'ling  face, 


ft  Jo 

Who  gave  the  Rambler's  freedom  with  a  grace. 
I  fee  too,  trav'ling  from  the  Ifle  of  Egg,  % 
The  humble  fervant  §§  of  a  horfe's  leg  ; 
And  Snip,  the  Taylor,  from  the  Ifle  of  Muck,  fit 
Who  ftitch'd  in  Sky,  with  tolerable  luck. 
I  fee  the  horn,  that  drunkards  muft  adore  ; 
The  horn,  the  mighty  horn  of  Rorie  More;  §§§ 
And  bloody  fliields,  that  guarded  hearts  in  quarrels, 
Now  guard,  from  rats,  the  milk  and  butter  barrels* 
Methhiks,  the  Caledonian  dame  I  fee, 
Familiar  fitting  on  the  Rambler's  knee, 
Charming,  with  kifles  fweet,  the  chuckling  fage; 
Malting,  with  fweeteft  fmiles,  the  froft  .of  age  ; 
Like  Sol,  who  darts,  at  times,  a  chearful  ray, 
O'er  the  wan  vifage  of  a  winter's  day. 
"  Do  it  again,  my  dear,"  (I  hear  Sam  cry) 
"  See,  who  firfc  tires,  (my  charmer!)  you  or  I." 
I  fee  thee  fluffing,  with  a  hand  uncouth, 
An  old  dry'd  whiting  in  thy  Johnfon's  mouth  ; 
And  lo!  I  'fee,  with  all  his  might  and  main, 
Thy  Johnfon  fpit  the  whiting  out  again. 
Rare  anecdotes  !  'tis  anecdotes  like  thefe, 
That  bring  thee  glory,  and  the  million  pleafe  ! 
On  thefe,  {hail  future  times,  delighted,  (tare, 
Thou  charming  haberdalher  of  fmall  ware  < 


*  P.  ii?.  **  I>.  275. 

t  P.  216.  §S  A  BUckfmWfc 

§  P.  440.  t-ft  P.  a?5. 

-If  P.  30,  ^§  P.  2£4- 


C      163      ] 

Stewart  and  Robertfon,  from  tbee*  fhall  learn, 

The  fimple  charms  of  HifFry  to  difcern : 

To  thee,  fair  Hift'ry's  palm,  ihall  Livy  yield ! 

And  Tacitus,  t©  Bozzy,  leave  the  field! 

Toe  Miller's  felf,  whofe  page  fuch  fun  provokes, 

'Shall  quit  his  (hroud,  to  grin  at  Bozzy' s  jokes! 

How  are  we  all  with  rapture  touch'd,  to  fee, 

Where i  when,  and  at  w!bat  bour,  you  fwallow'd  tea  / 

How,  once,  to  grace  this  Afiatic  treat, 

Came  haddocks,  which  the  Rambler  could  not  eatt 

Pleas'd,  on  thy  book  thy  Sovereign's  eye-bails  roll, 
Who  loves  a  goffip's  ftory,  from  his  foul ! 
Bleft  with  the  mem'ry  of  the  Perfian  king,  * 
HE,  ev^ry  body  knows,  and  r/ry  thing ; 
Who's  dead,  who's  mnrry'd,  what  poor  girl  beguil'd, 
Hath  loft  a  paramour,  and  found  a  child ; 
Which  gard'ner  hath  moil  cabbages  and  peas, 
And  which  old  woman  hath  mofi  hives  of  bees ; 
Which  farmer  boafts  the  mo  ft  prolific  fows, 
Cocks,  hens,  geefe,  turkies,  goats,  iheep,  bulls  and  cows ; 
Which  barber,  bed,  the  ladies  locks  can  curl ; 
Which  houfe,  in  Windfor,  fells  the  fined  purl; 
Which  chimney-fweep,  beft  beats,  in  gold  array, 
His  brufh,  and  {hovel,  on  the  firft  of  May  ; 
Whofe  dancing  dogs,  in  rigadoons,  excel ; 
And  whofe  the  puppet-fhow,  that  bears  the  bell ; 
Which  clever  fmitn,  the  pretieit  man-trap  f  makefi, 
To  fave,  from  thieves,  the  royal  ducks  and  drakes ; 
The  Guinea-hens  and  peacocks  with  their  eggs ; 
And  catch  his  loving  fubjefts,  by  the  legs. 
Oh !  fmce  the  PRINCE  OF  GOSSIPS  rends  thy  book, 
To  what  high  honors  may  not  Bozzy  look ! 
The  fun-fhine  of  his  fmile  may  foon  be  thine — 
Perchance,  in  converfe  thou  may" ft  hear  him  iliine: 

P   2 


*  Xerxes. 

t  His  M y  hath  planted  a  number  of  thefe  truf:v  g^r 

dians  around  his  park  at  Windfor,  for  the  benefit  of  the  pub 
lic. 


C      164      ]   ( 

Perchance,  to  ftamp  thy  merit  through  the  nation^ 

He  .begs,  of  Johnfon's  life,  thy  Dedication: 

Asks  queilions  *  of  thee,  O  tliou  lucky  elf. 

And  kindly  anfwers  evVy  one,  bimfelf. 

Blefl  with  the  claffic  learning  f  of  a  college, 

Our  K — g  is  not  a  nrifer,  of  his  knowledge: 

Nought,  in  the  ftore-houfe  of  his  brain,  turns  mufly: 

No  razor-wit,  for  want  of  ufe,  grows  nifty. 

Whatever  his  head  fuggefls,  whatever  he  knows, 

Free,  as  ele6tion-beer  from  tubs,  it 'flows! 

Yet,  ah!  fupcrior  tar!— it  boafts  the  merit, 

Of  never  fuddling  people,  with  the  fpirit ! 

Say,  Bozzy,  when,  to  blefs  our  anxious  fight, 

When  fhall  thy  volume  §  burfl  the  gates  of  light? 

Oh  !  cloath'd  in  calf,  ambitious  brat,  be  born"; 

Our  kitchens,  parlours,  libraries,  adorn! 

My  fancy's  keen,  anticipating  eye 

A  thoufand  charming  anecdotes  can  fpy: 

I  read,  I  read  of  G — ge,  the  learn'd  %  difplay 

On  LOUTH'S  and  WARBURTON'S  immortal  fray— <« 

Of  G— -ge,  whole  brain,  if  right  the  mark  I  hie. 

Forms  one  huge  Cyclopaedia  of  wit ; 


*  Juft  after  Dr.  Johnfon  had  been  honored  with  an  inter" 
view  with  a  certain  great  perfonage,  in  the  Queen's  library  at 
Buckingham  Houfe,  he  was  iiitferrogated  by  a  friend,  concern 
ing  his  reception,  arui  his  opinion  of  the  r--.y~l  intellec't.  His 

M y  fecius  to  be  po(Te(Ied  of  much  good-nature,  and  much 

curiofity  (replied  the  Doctor)  as  for  his  it  is  far  from  con 
temptible.  HiSivi y  iuaccci  was  multifarious  in  his  qnejlion  ; 

bur,  thank  God,  he  anfwcrcd  them  all  himfelf. 

f  This  is  a  very  extraordinary  circumftance,  as  the  late  P s 

D r  retained  three  parts  of  the  money  ordered  for  the  e- 

di-.cniion   of  her   children.      Tie  effect  of  this   abfurd  condu«Tc 

was  fo  confpicuous  in  her  d  lighter  M A,  that  the  letter?, 

received  from  her,  during  her  refidence  in  Denmark,  were 
iibiblutely  unintelligible. 

§  The  life  of  Dr.  Johnfon. 

.,.*  His   IVI y's   commentary  on   that  quarrel,   in  which  the 

i'u'iroV  and  the  D'OCTOR  pelted  one  the  other  with  dirt  fo  grace- 
/,///r,  will  be  a  treafurc  to  the  lovers  of  l'.\."i  ••.ruro !  Mr.  B.  hath 
us  good  as  promifed  it  to  the  P^BJUC,  ua;,  ,/c  hap^j  means  t^- 
.kcep  his  word. 


[        165        3 

That  holds  the  wifdom  of  a  thoufand  ages, 
And  frightens  all  his  workmen  and  his  pages  I 
O  Bozzy,  dill  thy  tell-tale  plan  purfue: 
The  world  is  wond'rous  fond  of  fomethirig  new: 
And,  let  but  Scandal's  breath  embalm  the  page, 
It  lives,  a  welcome  gu eft,  from  age  to  age. 
Not  only  fay,  who  breathes  an  arrant  knave, 
But  who  hath  fneak'd,  a  rafcal,  to  his  grave : 
Make  o'er  his  turf  (in  virtue's  caufe)  a  rout, 
And,  like  a  d—mffd  good  Cbriflian;  pull  him  out. 
Without  a  fear,  on  families  harangue ; 
Say,  who  (hail  lofe  their  ears,  and  who  fiiall  hang; 
Publifh  the  demireps,  and  punks— nay  more, 
Declare,  what  virtuous  wife  will  be  a  w— -re. 
Thy  brilliant  brain,  eonjeftufe  can  fupply, 
To  charm,  through  ev'ry  leaf,  the  eager  eye- 
The  BLUE-STOCKING  *  fociety  defe 
And  give  thy  comment  on  e:--  M. •  .  : 

Tell,  what  the  women  are,  their  . 
And  dip  them  iri  thy  iireajns  of  imfaoi 

Let  Lord  M' Donald  threat,  thy  breech  to  kick,  f 
And,  o'er  thy  (hrinking  moulders,  ihake  his  '*i-:^  •  - 
Treat,  with  contempt,  the  menace  of  elii.i  Loi  . 
'Tis  Hift'ry's  province,  Bozzy,  to  re^or-J, 
Though  V/ilkes  abufelhy  brain,  that  airy  mi]!. 
And  (wear  poor  Jobnfon  murder  d  by  thy  q.::  :  ; 
What's  that  to  thee?— Why,  let  the  vi&iiu  piee.w  -- 
Thy  end  is  anfvver'd,  if  the  nation  read; 
The  fiddling  Knight,  §  and  -tuneful  Mrs.  Thr'ate, 
V/ho  frequent  itched  or  nobtfd  with  Sail)  hi  ale, 


*  A  club,  moftly  compofed  of  lf-nrned  laJies,  t-.  -.Viiicli  Mr. 
B,  was  admitted. 

t  A  letter  oi*  fevere  remonflrance  was  fcrt  to  I\Ir, B,.who,  in 
confeqiience,  omitted,  in  the  fccond  edition  of  his  jourr.v, 
what  is  fo  generally  pleafing  to  the  public,  viz.  the  fcati^ih^ 
$ff/tige<,  relative  to  this  nobleman. 

<3  Sir  John  Hawkins.,  who  (as  well  as  Mrs.  Thrn'!e;  • 
dain  Piozzi)  threatens  us  wi;h  the  iitc  oi  the  iat^  i 
pher,- 


Snatch  up  the  pen  (as  third  of  fame  infpires) 

To  write  his  jokes  and  ftories,  by  the>;  fire* : 

Then  why  not  TIIOU,  each  joke  and  tale  enrol,        ^ 

Who,  like  a  watchful  cat,  before  a  hole, 

Full  twenty  years  (inflam'd  with  letterd  pride) 

Did'ft  moufmg  fit,  before  SAM'S  mouth  fo  wide, 

To  catch  as  many  fcraps,  as  thou  vvert  able 

A  very  Lir//rus  at  the  rich  man's  table? 

What,  though  again  ft  thee  Porters  *  bounce  the  door. 

And  bid  thee  hunt  for  fecret-s  there  no  more, 

•*i  pen  and  ink  fo  ready  at  thy  coat, 
Exdfeman-like,  each  fy liable  to  note, 
That  giv'n  to  Printcrs'-devils,  (a.  precious  load  !}• 
On  wings  of  print,  comes  flying  all  abroad? — 
Watch  then  the  venal  valets — fmack  the  maids; 
And  try,  with  gold,  to  make  them  rogues  and  jades  - 
Yet  mould  their  honefty  thy  bribes  refent; 
Fiy  to  thy  fertile  genius,  and  invent : 
Like  old  Voltaire,  who  placed  his  greateft  glory, 
In  cooking  up  an  entertaining  ftory; 
Who  laugh'd  at  Truth,  whene'er  her  fnnp'c  ttifigue 
V/ouid  ihatcli  amufeaic;  nig. 

Oh!  whilft,  an.  id  the  anecdotic  n 
Thou  Lib'reft  hard,  to  bid  thy  J'^o  {hire. 
Run  to  Holt  Court,  f  exert  thy  cu.fu.-iikc  §  fouf, 

n  leaves,  from  hole  to  hole: 

Fin;  e  eat  and  drank,  and  cougvfd  and  fnce?;M:- 

Let  nil  his  motions  in  thy  book  be  fqueez'd : 
On  tales,  however  flran^e,  impofe  thy  claw; 
ambet  lick  up  C\M-\   (I 

a  treat;, 
For  all,  that  breathes  of  j'ohnfon,  n&ft  be  great! 


literally  true— Nr 


C      167     ] 

Bleft  be  thy  labors,  mod  adventurous  Bozzy, 
Bold  rival  of  Sir  John,  and  dame  Piozzi! 
Heav'ns!  with  what  laurels  (hall  thy  head  be  crown' d !' 
A  grove,  a  fore  ft  ^  fhall  thy  ears  (urround ! 
i  Yes !  whilft  the  Rambler  ihall- a  Comet  blaze, 
And  gild  a  world  of  darknefs  with  his  rays, 
THEE  too,  that  world,  with  wonderment,  Ihall  hail, 
A  lively,  bouncing  CRACKER  at  his  tail  1 


P     0     S     T     S     CRIP 


A 


.  S  Mr,  Bos  WELL'S  journal  has  afforded  fuch  univer-- 
fal  pleafure,  by  the  relation  of  minute  incidents,  and  the 
great  Moralift's  opinion  of  men  and  things,  during  his 
northern  tour;  it  will  be  adding  greatly  to  the  anecdoti- 
eal  treafury,  as  well  as  making  Mr,  B.  happy,  to  com 
municate  pnrt  of  a  Dialogue,  that  took  place  between 
Dr.  Johnfon  and  the  'Author  of  tin's  Congratulatory  E- 
piftle,  a  few  months  before  the  Doftor  paid  the  great 
debt  of  Nature.  The  Do&or  was  very  chearful,  that 
day  ;  hud  on  a  black  coat  and  waidcoar,  a  black  plulh 
pair  of  breeches,  and  black  v/orfkd  (lockings,  a  hand- 
fo:nc  grey  wig,  a  (liirr,  a  nraflin  ncckcloih,  a  black  pair 
of  buttons  in  his  fhirt-ileeves,  a  pair  of  Ihoc-s,  ornament 
ed  with  the  very  identical  little  buckles,  that  accompa 
nied  the  philofopher  t  les  ;  his  nails  were 
very  neatly  pared,  and  hh  cj(h  lhavcd,  with  a 
r-a^o,.  -tl  by  the  in  Mr.  Savi. 

/>.  P.    (i  Pray,  !  r  opinion  of  Mr, 

:    lituury  powers v"' 


teraturc — be  feems  ftrongly  •  affefted  by  the  cacoettie*- 
fcribendi >  wiihes  to  be  thought  a  rara  avis;  and,  in 
truth,  fo  he  is— your  -knowledge  in  ornithology,  Sir, 
will  eafily  difeover,  to  what  fpecies  of  bird  I  allude.."— 
{Here  the  De&or  Jhook-  bis  bcad^  and  laughed^ 

P.  P,  "What  think  you,  Sir,  of  his  account  of  Cor- 
fica?—  Of  Ins  ckara&er  of  Paoli  V" 

Jobnfon.-  "  Sir,  he  hath  made  a  mountain  of  a  wart. 
But  Paoli  has  virtues.  The  account  is  a  farrago  of  dif- 
gulling  egotifm,  and  pompous  -inanity, 

P.  P.  "  I  have  heard  it  whifpered,  Doftor,  that, 
fhould  you  die  before  him,  Mr.  B.  means  to  write  your 

life," 

Johr.fon*     "   Si?,  he  cannot  mean  ine  fo  irreparable 
,nr>  injury.     Which  of  us  lhall  die  firft,  is  only  known  to 
the   (ircar  Difpofer  of  Events:   but  were  I  Cure,   that 
<•   Boiwel!   \vou!d  write   my   life,   I  do  -HOC  know, 
her  !  would   not  anticipate  die  mt"fv:re,  by  taking 
£/.$."     \Here  be  made  three  or  four  ft  ride;  acrojs  the 
rt)i  ./,  anil  returned  to  bis  chair ^  with  violent  emotion*~\ 

P.P.  **  I  am- nnukl,  that  he  means  to  do  yo'a  the 
favor, 

^•obnjon*  "  Tic  dares  not—lie  wouki  make  a  fcare-' 
cjow  o('  me,  1  give  l.iin  liberty -to  lire  hir  WiTilderbtifs 

\\\  Its  (>\<;n  iu?"c,  but  not  to  murder  me.    Slr9  i  heed  IJG': 

his  }>o:-".s/.r-:LL  \vrite  ///v  liici— Why,  the  fi,hlcw' 

j'-orfrfR  s  not  r;,VI:;tu.S5  for  w-r-itiii^,;  the  life  or'  znEfb-ewe- 


B   O   Z    Z    Y     AND     P    I   0   Z    Z    I; 


£  R  IT  1  S  H    BIOGRAPHERS. 


A    PAIR    OF 


TOWN    ECLOGUES. 


,£t  cant  are  par  csy  e$  rcffdn^ere  par  at  f 


THE' A  R  G  U  ME'NT," 


O 


_  '  N  the  death  of  DOCTOR  JOHNSON,  a  number  of 
people,  ambitious  of  being  diftinguijbed  from  the  mute 
*part  of  their  fpectes,  fat  about  relating  and  -printing 
Stories,  and  Bon  Mots,  of  this  celebrated  woralift. — 
Among  the  moft  zealous,  though  not  the  moil  enlight 
ened,  appeared  Mr.  BOSWELL  and  MADAME  PIOZZI,  the 
HERO  and  HEROINE  of  our  ECLOGUES.  They  are  fup- 
pofed  to  have  in  contemplation  the  LIFE  of  JOHNSON  ; 
#nd,  to  prove  their  biographical  abilities,  appeal  to 
SIR  JOHN  HAWKINS,  for  hh  decifion  on  their  refpeftive 
merits,  by  quotations  from  their  printed  anecdotes  of 
the  DOCTOR.  SIR  JoH'N  bean  them,  with  uncommon 
patience ;  and  determines  very  properly,,  on  the  preten- 
fi<ins  of  the  contending  parties, 


B   O   Z   Z   Y  AND  P   I   O   Z  Z  /-I. 


A    PAIR     OF 


TOWN     ECLOGUES, 


HEN  Johnfon  fought  (as  Shakefpeare  fay:;)  th 


From  whence,  alas-!  no  travellers  return  i 
In -humbler  Englifh,  when  the  Doclor  dy'd> 
Apoilo  vvhimper'-d,  and  the  Mules  cry  MS 
-ParnafTas  mop'd  for  days,  in  bus'nefs  flack, 
And,  like  a  hearfe,  the  hill  was  hung  with  black. 
Minerva,  fighing  for  her  fav'rite  fonf 
Pronounc'd,  with  lengthened  face,  the  world  undone, 
Her  owl,  too,  hooted  in  ib  loud  a  Irllc, 
That  people  might  have  heard  the  bird,  a  mile: 
love  wip'd  his  eyes,  fo  red,  and  told  his  wife, 
lie  ne'er  made  Johnfon's  equal,  in  his  life; 
And  that  'twould  be  a  long  time  firft,  if  ever, 
Mis  art  could  form  a  fellow,  half  fo  clever: 


VENUS,  of  all  the  little  loves  the  Dam, 

With  all  the  graces,  fobb'd  for  brother  Sam : 

Such  were  the  heav'nly  bowlings  for  his  death. 

As  if  Dame  Nature  had  refignM  her  breath. 

Nor  lefs  fonorous  was  the  grief,  I  ween, 

Amidd  the  natives  of  our  earthly  fceue: 

From  beggars,  to  the  Great  who  hold  the  helm, 

One  Johnfon-mania  rag'd  through  all  the  realm! 

t;  Wkoi  (cry'd  the  world)  can  match  bTs  profe  or  rhyme  f 

O'er  wits  of  modem  days,  be  tow'rs  fublime .' 

An  oak,  wide  fpreading  o'er  the  Ihriibs  below, 

That  round,  the  roots,  with  puny  foliage,  blow : 

A  pyramid,  amidfc  fome  barren  wade, 

That  frowns  o'er  huts,  the  fport  of  ev'ry  blad: 

A  mighty  Atlas,  whofe  afpiring  head, 

O'er  didant  regions,  cads  an  awful  (hade. 

By  kings,  and  vagabonds,  his  tales  are  told, 

And  ev'ry  fentence  glows,  a  grain  of  Gold! 

Bled !  who  his  philofophic  phiz  can  take, 

Catch  ev'n  his  weakneffes — his  noddle's  (hake, 

The  lengthened  lip  of  fcorn,  the  forehend's  fcowl, 

The  low'riag  eye's  contempt, -r.nd  bear-like  growl! 

In  vain,  the  critics  vent  their  toothlefs  rage! 

Mere  fprnts,  that  venture,  war  with  whales  to  wage ! 

Uamov'd  he  (lands,  and  reels  their  force,  no  more, 

Than  fome  huge  rock,  amidft  the  wat'ry  roar, 

That  calmly  bears  the  tumults  of  the  deep, 

And  howling  tempefls,  that  jis  well  might  ileep. 

Strong,  'mid  ft  the  Rambler's  cronies,  was  the  raga 

To  fill,  with  Sam's  bon  mots  and  tales,  the  page : 

Mere  flies,  that  buzz'd  around  his  fetting  ray, 

And  bore  a  fpiendor,  on  their  wings,  away: 

Thus  round  his  orb,  the  pigmy  planets  run, 

And  catch  their  little  luftre  from  the  Sun. 

At  length,  rufli'd  forth  two  Candidates  for  fame, 
A  Scotchman,  one ;  and  one,  a  London  Dame : 
Tbaf)  by  th'  emphatic  Johnfon,  chrideird  Bozzy; 
Thi\,  by  the  bi (hop's  licence,  Dame  Piozzi; 
Whofe  widow'd  name,  by  topers  lov'd,  was 
Bright  in  the  annals  of  de/5tiou  ale: 


C      i?i      ] 

A  name,  by  marriage,  that  gave  up  the  gholt! 

In  poor  PEDOCCHIO,  * —  no!  PIOZZI,  loil! 

Each  feiz'd,  with  ardor  wild,  the  grey  goofe-quill: 

Each  fat,  to  work  the  intellectual  mill, 

That  pecks  of  bran,  fo  coarfe,  began  to  pour, 

To  one  final!  folitary  grain  of  flour. 

Forth  rulh'd  to  light,  their  books— but  who  fhould  fay, 
WHICH  bore  the  palm  of  anecdote  away? 
This  to  decide,  the  rival  wits  agreed, 
Before  Sir  John,  their  tales  and  jokes  to  read, 
•  And  let  the  Knight's  opinion  in  the  ftrife, 
Declare  the  prop'refl  pen,  to  write  Sam's  life. 
Sir  John,  renown' d  for  mufical  f  palavers — 
The  Prince,  the  King,  the  Emperor  of  Quavers ! 
Sharp  in  folfeggi,  as  the  iharpefl  needle ; 
Great  in  the  noble  art  of  tweedle-tweedlc; 
Of  Mufic's  College,  form'd  to  be  a  Fellow, 
Fit  for  Mus.  D.  or  MAESTRO  DE  CAPELLA  ; 
Whofe  Volume,  though  it  here  and  there  offends, 
Boalls  German  merit — makes  by  bulk^  amends. 
Superior,  frowning  o'er  oftavo  wits, 
High  plac'd,  the  venerable  quarto  fics ; 
And  duodecimos,  ignoble  fcuinl 
Poor  proftitutes  to  ev'ry  vuU  n-  thumb ! 
Whi  HI,  undefil'd,  by  literary  rage, 
ME  bears  a  fpotlefs  leafr  from  age  to  age. 

Like  fchool-boys,  lo !  before  a  two-ar;i'd  chair, 
That  held  the  KNIGHT,  wife  judging,  flood  the  PAIR; 
Or  like  two  ponies  on  the  (porting  ground, 
Prepared  to  gallop,  when  the  drum  Ihould  found ; 
The  COUPLE  rang'd— for  vicYry,  both,  as  keen, 
As  for  a  tott'ring  biihoprick,  a  dean, 
Or  Patriot  Burke,  for  giving  glorious  ballings 
To  that  intolerable  fellow,  Bailings. 


*  The  author  was  near  committing  a  blunder— fortunate  in 
deed  was  his  recollection  ;  as  Pedoccbio  fignifies  in  the  Icalian 
language,  that  moft  contemptible  of  all  animals,  a  LOUSE, 

t  Vid.  his  Hiftory  of  Mufic. 


C      174      ] 

Thus  with  their  fongs,  contended  Virgil's  Swains, 
And  made  the  vallies  vocal  with  their  (trains, 
Before  fome  grey-beard  fwain,  whofe  judgment  ripe 
Gave  goats  for  prizes,  to  the  preitieft  pipe. 

"  Alternately,  in  anecdotes,  go  on; 
But  firft  begin  you,  madam,"  cryM  Sir  John. 
The  thankful  Dame,  low  curtfied  to  the  chair, 
And  thus,  for  vkVry,  panting,  read  the  Fair. 

MADAME   PIOZZI.  * 

Sam.  Johnfon  was,  of  Michael  Johnfoti,  born, 
Whofe  ihop  of  books  did  Litchfield-towa  adorn: 
Wrong-headed,  (tubborn  as  a  halter' d  ram; 
In  fliort,  the  model  of  our  HERO,  Sam : 
Inclined  to  madnefs,  too — for  when  his  fhop 
Fe!i  down,  for  want  of  cam.  to  buy  ?  prop; 
For  fear  the  thieves  might  (leal  the  vanffid  (tore, 
He  duly  went  each  night,  .and  locked  the  door! 

B  O  Z  Z  Y.  f 

Whilft  Johnfon  was  in  Edinburgh,  my  \vife, 
To  pleafe  his  palate,  ftudy'd  for  her  life: 
With  tjv'ry  rarity  fhe  fill'd  her  houfe, 
And  gave  tKe  Do<5tor,  for  his  dinner,  groufe. 

MADAME   PIOZZI.  § 

Dear  Doctor  Johnfon  was,  in  fize,  an  ox ; 
And  from  his  uncle  Andrew,  learn'd  to  box  ; 
A  man,  to  wreftlers,  and  to  bruifers,  dear, 
Who  kept  the  ring  in  Smithfield,  a  whole  year. 


*  Vide  Piozzi^s  Anecdotes,  page 

-\  Bozzy's  Toiir,  page  38. 
§  Piozzi's  Anecdotes,  page  5. 


E        175        j 


B  O  Z  Z  Y.  *, 

At  flipper,  rofe  a  dialogue  on  witches, 
When  Crosbie  faid,  there  could  not  be  fuch  b-tch-s  ; 
And  that  'twas  blafphemy,  to  think,  fuch  hags 
Could  ftir  up  ftorms,  and,  on  their  broomftick-nags 
Gallop  along  the  air,  with  wond'rous  pace, 
And  boldfy  fly,  in  God  Almighty's  face. 
But  Johnfon  anfwer'd  him,  "  there  might  be  witches- 
.Nought  prov'd  the  non-exiilence  of  the  b-tch-s." 

MADAME   PIOZZI.  f 

When  Thrale,  as  nimble  as  a  boy  at  School, 
Jump'd,  tho'  fatigu'd  with  hunting,  o'er  a  llool  ; 
The  Do&or,  proud  the  fame  grand  feat  to  do, 
His  pow'rs  exerted,  and  jump'd  over  too  : 
And  tho'  he  might  a  broken  back  bewail, 
He  fcorn'd  to  be  eclips'd  by  Mr.  Thrale. 

B  O  Z  Z  Y.  § 

AT  Ulinifti,  our  friend,  to  pafs  the  time, 
Regal'd  us  with  his  knowledges  fublime: 
Sliow'd,  that  all  forts  of  learning  fill'd  his  nob; 
And  that  in  butch'ry  he  could  bear  a  Bob. 
He  fagely  told  us  of  the  diff  'rent  feat, 
Employ'd,  to  kiil^|e  animals  we  eat, 
An  Ox,  fliid  he,  in  country  and  in  town, 
Is,  by  the  butchers,  conftantly  knock'd  down  ; 
As  for  that  lefler  animal,  a  calf, 
The  knock  is  really  not  fo  ftrong  by  half. 
The  beaft  is  only  ftunn'd  :  but  as  for  goats, 
And  fheep,  and  lambs—  the  butchers  cut  their  throats. 
Thofe  fellows  only  want  to  keep  them  quiet, 
Not  chilling,  that  the  brutes  fhould  breed  a  riot. 


*  Page  jp.  t  Page  6.   .        §  Page  300. 


MADAME   PIOZZI.  * 

When  Johnfon  was  a  child,  and  fvvallow'd  pap, 
'Twas  in  'his  mother's  old  maid  Cath'rine's  lap; 
There  whilft  he  fat,  he  took  in  wond'rous  learning  : 
For  much  his  bowels  were  for  knowledge  yearning. 
There,  heard  the  flory,  which  we  Britons  brag  on, 
The  Story  of  St.  George,  and  eke  the  Dragon. 

B  O  Z  Z  Y.   f 

When  Foote,  his  leg  by  fome  misfortune,  broke; 
Said  I  to  Johnfon,  all  by  way  of  joke, 
"  Sam,  Sir,  in  paragraph,  will  foon  be  clever," 
6  And  take  off  Peter,  better  now,  than  ever." 
On  which,  fays  Johnfon,  without  hefitation, 
George  §  will  rejoice  at  Footers  depeditation* 
On  which,  faid  I,  a  penetrating  elf— 
46  Doctor,  I'm  fure,  you  coin'd  that  word,  yourfelf." 
On  which  he  laugh'd,  and  faid,  I  had  divin'd  it; 
For  bona  fide^  he  had  really  coin'd  it. 
And  yet,  of  all  the  words  I've  coin'd,  (faid  he) 
My  Dictionary,  Sir,  contains  but  three  l 

MADAME  PIOZZL 

The  Doctor  faid,  in  literary  matters, 
A  Frenchman  goes  rtot  deep—  he  onlyjraatters  : 
Then  ask'd,  what  could  be  hop'd  forifom  the  dogs- 
Fellows  that  liv'd  eternally  on  frogs  ! 

B  O  Z  Z  Y.   § 

In  grave  proceffion  to  St.  Leonard's  College, 
Well  fluff  'd  with  ev'ry  fort  of  ufeful  knowledge, 


*  Page  15.  t 

§   George  Faulkner,  the  printer  at  Dublin,  taken  off  t»y 
Foote,  under  the  character  of  PETER  PARAGRAPH. 
tt  Page  55. 


C        177       ] 

We  (lately  walk'd,  as  foon  as  fupper  ended : 
The  Landlord  and  the  Waiter  both  attended: 
The  Landlord  skill'd  a  piece  of  greale  to  handle,. 
Before  us  march'd,  and  held  a  tallow  candle : 
A  lantern,  (fome  fam'd  Scotfman  its  creator) 
With  equal  grace,  was  carry' d  by  the  waiter : 
Next  morning,  from  our  beds,  we  took  a  leap; 
And  found  ourfelves  much  better  for  our  ileep. 

MADAME  PIOZZI.  * 

In  Lincolnfhire,  a  lady  fhow'd  our  friend, 
A  grotto,  that  Hie  wifh'd  him  to  commend: 
Quoth  {he,  "  how  cool,  in  fumraer,  this  abode  / 
"  Yes?  Madam  (anfwer'd  Johnfon)  for  a  toad" 

B  O  Z  Z  Y.   f 

Between  old  Scalpa's  rugged  ifle,  and  Rafay's, 
The  wind  was  vailly  boift'rous  in  our  faces : 
'Twas  glorious,  Johnfon's  figure  to  fet  fight  on — 
High  in  the  boat,  he  look'd  a  noble  Triton ! 
But  lo !  to  damp  our  pieafure,  Fate  concurs ; 
For  Jo.  the  blockhead,  loft  his  mailer's  fpurs. 
This,  for  the. Rambler's  temper,  was  a  rubber, 
Who  wonder'd,  Jofeph  could  be  fuch  a  lubber, 

MADAME   PIOZZI.    § 

I  ask'd  him,  if  he  knocked  Tom  Osborn  down ;  §§ 
As  fuch  a  tale  was  current  through  the  town— 
Said  I,  "  do  tall  me,  Doftor,  what  befel  f ' 
"  Why,  deareft  lady,  there  is  nought  to  tell: 
I  ponder' d  on  the  prop'refl  mode  to  treat  him— 
The  dog  was  impudent,  and  fo  I  beat  him. 
Tom,  like  a  fool,  proclaimed  his  fancy' d  wrongs ; 
Others,  that  I  belabour'd,  held  their  tongues." 
Q  3 


f  Pnffe  185.  §  Pa^e  232. 

§5  BookfcJlcr. 


C      178      3 

Did  any  one,  that  he  was  happy,  cry, 
Johufon  wouM  tell  him  plumply,  'twas  a  lie: 
A  hdy  *  told  him,  ihe  was  really  fo : 
Or*  which,  he  fternly  anfwer'd,  "  Midam9  no! 
*'  Sickly  you  are,  and  ugly— foolifh,  poor; 
"  And  therefore,  can't  be  happy,  I  am  fure. 
"  'TwouM  make  a  fellow  hang  himfelf,  whofe  ear 
*•  Was,  from  fuch  creatures,  forc'd  fuch  Huff  to  Ji  ear." 

B  O  Z  Z  Y,  f 

Lo!  when  we  landed  on  the  Ifle  of  Mull, 
The  megrims  got  into  the  Dolor's  skull: 
With  fuch  bad  humors  he  began  to  fill, 
I  thought,  he  would  not  go  to  Icolmkill : 
But  lo!  thofe  megrims  (wonderful  to  utter!) 
Wgre  banilh'd  all,  by  tea  and  bread  and  butter, 

MADAME   PIOZZI.   § 

The  Dodlor  had  a  Cat,  and  chriften'd  Hodge, 
That,  at  his  houfe  in  Fieet-llreet,  us'd  to  lodge — 
This  Hodge  grew  old,  and  fick,  and  us'd  to  wiih, 
That  all  his  dinners  were  compos'd'  of  fifh. 
To  pleafe  poor  Hodge,  the  Doctor,  all  fo  kind 
Went  out,  and  bought  him  oyfters  to  bis  mind. 
This,  ev'ry  day,  he  did— nor  ask'd  black  Frank,  ff 
Who  deem'd  himfclf  of  much  too  high  a  rank, 
With  vulgar  fifi-fags  to  be  forc'd  to  chat, 
And  purchafe'oyiters,  for  %  mangy  cat. 

SIR    J  O  II  N. 

For  God's  fake,  Hay  each  anecdotic  fcrap, 
Let  me  draw  breath  and  take  a  trifling  nip: 
With  one  half  hour's  retreihing  (lumber,  bleft, 
And  HeavVs  afflftance,  I  may  hear  the  red. 


*  Page  185.  t  Pase  306.  §  Pnge 

•ft  Or.  Johnlbn's  fevvant 


[        179       1 

What  I  have  done,  inform  me,  gracious  Lord, 
That  thus  my  ears,  with  nonfenfe,  Ihould  be  bor^d? 
Oh!  if  I  do  not,  in  the  trial,  die, 
The  Dev'J,  and  all  his  brimilone,  I  defy: 
"No  puniiliment,  in  other  worlds,  I  fear^ 
My  crimes  will  ail  be  expiated  here. 
Ah !  ten  times  happier  was  my  lot  of  yore, 
When,  rais'd  to  confequence,  that  all  adore, 
I  fat,  each  feffion,  king-like  in  the  chair ; 
Aw'd  ev'ry  rank,  and  made  the  million  flare: 
Lord  Paramount,  o'er  ev'ry  jtiflice,  riding 
In  caufes,  with  a  Turkifh  fway,  deciding ! 
Yes !  like  a  noble  Bafhaw  of  three  tails, 
I  fpread  a  fear,  and  trembling,  through  the  jails  j 
Bleft,  have  I  brow-beaten  each  thief,  and  ftntopei, 
And  blafted  on  them,  like  the  lad  day's  trumpet. 
I  know  no  paltry  weaknefs  of  the  foul — 
No  fniv'ling  pity  dares  my  deeds  control — 
Afham'd,  the  weaknefs  of  my  King,  I  hear, 
Who,  childilh,  drops  on  ev'ry  death  *  a  tear. 
Return,  return  again,  thou  glorious  hour, 
That  to  my  grafp  once  gav'ft  my  idol,  pow'r ; 
When,  at  my  feet,  the  humbled  knaves  would  fall ; 
The  thundering  Jupiter  of  Flicks'  Hall. 

The  Knight,  thus  finilhing  his  fpeech  fo  fair, 
Sleep  pull'd  him  gently  backwards,  in  his  chair: 
Op'd  wide  the  mouth,  that  oft  on  jail-birds  fivorc  ; 
Then  rais'd  his  nafal  organ  to  a  roar, 
That  actually  furpafs'd  in  tone,  and  grace, 
The  grumbled  ditties  of  his  fav'rite  BASS.  § 


*  Such  is  the  report  concerning  his  MAJESTY,  when  he  figns 
the  warrants  for  execution  :— How  unlike  the  GREAT  FRE 
DERIC  of  Pruffia,  Who  delights  in  a  banging! 

§  The  violinccllo,  on  which  the  Knight  i§  a  performer. 


BOZZY     AND     PIOZZI; 


A    FAIR     OF 


TOWN     EC  L  O  G  U  E  S. 


Pv        T          If. 


I  OW  from  his  deep,  the  Knight,  affrighted,  fprung, 
Whilft  on  his  ear,  the  words  of  Johnfon  rung: 
For  lo  I  in  dreams,  the  furly  Rambler  rofe, 
And  wildly  flaring,  feeirfd  a  man  of  woes. 
Wake,  Hawkins  (growl'd  the  Doctor,  with  a  frown} 
And  knock  that  fellow,  and  that  woman  down — 
Bid  them,  with  Johnfon' s  life,  proceed  no  further — 
Enough  already  they  have  dealt  in  murther! 
Say,  to  their  tales,  that  little  truth  belongs — 
If  fame  they  mean  me— bid  them  hold  their  tongue*. 

In  vain,  at  glory,  gudgeon  Bofwell  fhaps--- 
His  mind,  a  paper-kite— compos'd  ,of  fcraps ; 
Juft  o'er  the  tops  of  chimnies,  form'd  to  fly ; 
Not  with  a  wing  fublime,  to  mount  the  sky. 
Sny  to.  the  dog,  his  head's  a  downright  drum.) 
Unequal  to  the  FliiTry  of  Tom  Thumb : 


C      rti      ] 

Nay— tell,  of  anecdote,  that  thirfty  leech, 
He  is  not  equal  to  a  Tyburn  Speech.  * 

For  that  Piozzi's  wife,  let  me  exhort  her 
To  draw  her  immortality  from  porter, 
Give  up  her  anecdotical  inditing, 
And  ftudy  houfewifery,  inftead  of  writing : 
Bid  her,  a  poor  biography  fiifpend  ; 
Nor  crucify,  through  vanity,  a  friend. 
I  know  no'bus'nefs  women  have  with  learning  ; 
I  fcorn,  I  hate,  the  mole-ey'd,  haif-difcerning: 
Their  wit,  but  ferves,  a  husband's  heart  to  rack; 
And  make  eternal  horf.-.vhips  for  his  back. 

Tell  Peter  Pindar,  fhould  you  chance  to  meet  him, 
I  like  his  genius— fhould  be  glad  to  greet  him — 
Yet  let  him  know,  crown' d  heads  are  facred  things. 
And  bid  him  rev'rence  more  the  bed  of  kings;  f 
Still,  on  his  Pegafus,  continue  jogging, 
And  give  that  Bofwell's  back  another  flogging. 

Such  was  the  dream,  that  wak'd  the  fleepy  knight; 
And  op'd  again  his  eyes  upon  the  light-— 
Who  mindlefs  of  old  Johnfon  and  his  frown, 
And  Hern  commands  to  knock  the  couple  down, 


*  Compofed  for  the  unfortunate  brave  of  Newgate,  by  diffe 
rent  hiftorians. 

t  This  is  a  ft  range  and  a  1m  oft  incredible  fpeech  from  John- 
foifs  mouth,  as  not  many  years  ago,  when  the  age  of  a  certain 
GREAT  PERSONAGE  became  the  fubjccl  of  debate,  the  Doctor 
broke  in  upon  the  converfation,  with  the  following  queftion, 
"  Of  what  importance  to  the  prefent  company,  is  his  age  ?— 
Of  what  importance  would  it  have  been  to  the  world,  if  he 
had  never  exiftcd  ?"  If  we  may  judge  Hkcwife  from  the  follow 
ing  fpeecb,  he  deemed  the  prefent  POSSESSOR  of  a  certain  THRONE 
as  much  an  USURPER,  as  KING  WILLIAM,  whom  according  to 
Mr.  BOSWELL'S  account,  he  be-fcwndrels.-  The  ftory  is  this— 
nn  acquaintance  of  JOHNSON,  asked  him  if  he  could  not  /ing.— 
He  replied,  "  I  know  but  oae  fong :  and  tbat  is,  "  The  KING 
(hall  enjoy  his  cwn  again.'7 


C         134        J 

Refolv'd  to  kee'p  the  peace—and  in  a  tone, 
Not  much  unlike  a  mafliff  o'er  a  bone, 
He  grumbled,  that  enabled  by  the  nap, 
He  now  could  meet  more  biographic  fcraps: 
Then  nodding,  with  a  magi  fir  at  ic  air, 
To  further  anecdote  he  calFd  the  fair. 

MADAME    PIOZZI.  * 

Dear  Do<5tor  Johnfon  lov'd  a  leg  of  pork, 
And  hearty,  on  It  would  his  grinders  work: 
He  lik'd  to  eat  it  fo  much  over-done^ 
That  one  might  (hake  the  flefh  from  off  the  bone. 
A  veal-pie,  too,  with  ftigar  cramm'd  and  plumbs, 
Was  wond'rous  grateful  to  the  Doctor's  gains. 
Though  us'd,  from  morn  to  night,  on  that,  to  fluff, 
He  vow'd,  his  belly  never  had  enough. 

B  O  Z  Z  Y.   f 

One  Thurlliay  morn,  did  Doftor  Johnfon  wake, 
And  call  out,  "  Lanky!  Lanky!"  by  miftake — 
But  recolleding — "  Bozzy!  Bozzy!"  cry'd — 
For  in  contractions  Johnfon  took  a  pride! 

MADAME  PIOZZI.  § 

Whene'er  our  friend  would  read  in  bed,  by  night, 
Poor  Mr.  Thrale,  and  I,  were  in  a  fright  ; 
For  blinking  on  his  book,  too  near  the  flame, 
Lo !  to  the  fore-top  of  his  wig,  it  came  j 
Burnt  all  the  hairs  away,  both  great  and  fmall, 
Down  to  the  very  net-work,  nanrd  the  caul. 

BOZZY.   H 

At  Corrachatachin's,  in  boggifm  funk, 
Tgot  with  punch,  alas!  confounded  drunk. 


Page  8.  f  Page  384,          §  Page  237.          fj.  Page  $17. 


C  •      i«3        3 

Much  was  I  vex'd,  that  I  could,  not  be  quiet, 
But  like  a  ftupld  blockhead,  bred  a  riot. 
I  foarcely  knew,  how  'twas  I  reei'd  to  bed — 
Next  morn,  I  wak'd,  with  dreadful  pains  of  head: 
And  tenors  too,  that  of  my  -peace  did  rob  me — 
For  much  I  fear'd,  the  Moralift  would  mob  me. 
But  as  I  lay  along,  a  heavy  log, 
The  Dodlor  ent'ring,  call' a  me  drunken  dog. 
Then  up  rofe  I,  with  apoftolic  air, 
And  read  in  dame  M'  Kinnori's  book  of  pray'r ;  - 
In  hopes,  for  fuch  a  fin,  to  be  forgiv'n  -- 
And  make,  if  poffible,  my  peace  with  heav'n. 
''Tvvas  ftrange,  that  in  that  volume  of  Divinity, 
I  op'd  the  Twentieth  Sunday  after  Trinity, 
And  read  thefe  words:  "  Pray, be-  not  drunk  with  wine: 
Since  drunkenuefs  doth  make  a  man  a  fwine." 
«c  Alas!"  faid  1,  "  the  finner  that  I  am!" 
And  having  made  my  fpeech,  I  took  a  dram. 

MADAME  PIOZZI.  * 

One  .day,  with  fpirits  low,  and  forrow  fill'd, 
I  told  Mm,  I  had  got  a  coufm  kill'd , 
My  dear, quoth  he,  for  heav'n's  fake, hold  your  canting: 
Were  all  your  coufms  kill'd,  they'd  not  be  wanting: 
Though  Death,  on  each  of  them,  ihould  fee  his  mark : 
Though  ev'ry  one  were  fpitted  like  a  lark — 
Hoafted,  and  giv'n  that  dog  there,  for  a  meal ; 
The  lofs  of  them  the  world  would  never  feel — 
Truft.me,  dear  madam,  all  your  dear  relations, 
Are  nits— are  nothings,  in  the  eye  of  Nations. 

Again,  f  &i&  I  one  day,  "  I  do  believe, 
A  good  acquaintance  that  I  have,  will  grieve, 
To  hear,  her  friend  hath  loft  a  large  eftate." 
44  Yes  (anfwer'd  he)  lament,  as  much,  her  fate, 


Page  63. 


[         184        ] 

As  die!  your  horfe  (I  freely  will  allow) 
To  hear  of  the  mifcarriage  of  your  cow/' 

B  OZZ Y  * 

At  Enoch,  at  M'  Queen's,  we  went  to  bed ; 
A  coloured  handkerchief  wrap'd  Johnfon's  head: 
He  faid,  "God  blefs  us  both— good  night!" and  then, 
I,  like  a  parifh  clerk,  pronounc'd,  Amen  / 
My  good  companion  foon,  by  ileep,  was  feiz'd — 
But  I,  by  lice  and  fleas,  was  fadly  teaz'd : 
Methought,  a  fpider,  with  terrific  claws, 
Was  finding  from  the  wainfcot,  to  my  jaws: 
But  flumber  foon  did  ev'ry  fenfe  entrap  ; 
And  fo  I  funk  into  the  fweeteft  nap. 

MADAME   PIOZZI.  f 

Trav'ling  in  Wales,  at  dinner-time  we  got  on, 
Where,  at  Leweny,  lives  Sir  Robert  Cotton. 
At  table,  our  great  Moralift  to  pleafc — 
Said  I,  "  dear  Doftor,  a'nt  thefe  charming  peas?* 
Quoth  he,  (to  contradict,  and  run  his  rig) 
"  Madam,  they  poffibly  might  pleafe  a  pig" 

B  O  Z  Z  Y.  § 

Of  thatching,  well  the  Doftor  knew  the  art, 
And  with  his  tbrejking  wifdom^  made  us  ftart: 
Defcrib'd  the  greatefl  fecrets  of  the  mint — 
And  made  folks  fancy,  that  he  had  been  in't. 
Of  hops  and  malt,  'tis  wond'rous  what  he  knewj 
*  And  well  as  any  brewer,  he  could  brew. 

MADAME   PIOZZI.  ft 

In  ghofts  the  Doftor  ftrongly  did  believe ; 
And  pinn'd  his  faith  on  many  a  liar's  fleeve : 


153.       f  Page  70.        §  Page  324-        tt  Page  192 


C        135        ] 

lie  faid  to  Doftor  Lawrence,  "  fur*  I  am, 
"  I  heard  my  poor  dear  mother  call  out  "  Sami" 
*'  I'm  fure,  (Taid  he}  that  I  can  trad  my  ears : 
•4  And  yet,  my  mother  had  been  dead  for  years." 

B  O  Z  Z  Y.   * 

When  young*  ('twas  rather  filly,  I  allow) 
Much  was  I  pleas'd  to  imitate  a  cow. 
One  time,  at  Dairy-lane,  with  Do6tor  Blair, 
My  imitations  made  the  play-houfe  flare ! 
So  very  charming  was  I,  in  my. roar, 
That  both  the  gall'ries  clapp'd,  and  cry'd,  "  encore  !r 
Bled  by  the  gen'ral  plaudit  and  the  laugh — 
I  try'd  to  be  a  Jack-afs  and  a  Calc: 
But  who,  alas!  in  all  things  can  be  great? 
In  ihort,  I  met  a  terrible  defeat: 
So  vile  I  bray'd,  and  bellow'd,  I  was  hifs'd-- 
Yet  all  who  knew  me,  wondered  that  I  mifs'd. 
Blair  whifper'd  me,  "  You've  loft  your  credit  now, 
"  Stick,  Bofwell,  for  the  future,  to  your  cow. 

MADAME    PIOZZI.  f 

For  me9  in  Latin,  Doftor  Johnfon  "wrote 
Two  lines,  upon  Sir  Jofeph  Banks'  Goat, 
A  Goat  !  that  round  the  v.'orld,  fo  curious  went  ; 
A  Goat  !  that  now  eats  grafs,  that  grows  in  Kent. 

B  O  Z  Z  Y.  § 

To  Lord  Monboddo  a  few  lines  I  wrote : 
And,  by  the  fervant  Jofeph,  fent  this  note-— 

"  Thus  far,  my  Lord,  from  Edinburgh,  my  horn*, 
With  Mr.  Samuel  Johnfon,  I  am  come— 
This  night,  by  us,-  muft  certainly  be  feen, 
The  very  handfome  town  of  Aberdeen. 
R 

*  Page  499.  i  Page  70.  §  T.ige  72. 


C          186        ] 

For  thoughts  of  Johnfoti,  you'll  not  be  apply'd  to— 
I  know  your  Lordfiiip  likes  him  lefs,  than  I  do. 
So  near  we  are— to  part,  I  can't  tell  how, 
Without  fo  much  as  making  you  a  bow: 
Befides,  the  Rambler  fays,  "  to  fee  Monbodd, 
He'd  wander  two  whole  miles  out  of  the  road," 
Which  ihows  that  he  admires  (whoever  rails) 
The  pen,  which  proves,  that  men  are  born  with  tails: 
Hoping,  that,  as  to  health,  your  LORDSHIP  does  well, 
I  am  your  fervant,  at  command, 

JAMES  BOSWELL," 

MADAME   PIOZZI.  * 

On  Mr.  Thrale's  old  old  Hunter,  Johnfon  rode — 
Who,  with  prodigious  pride,  the  bead  beftrodej 
And  as, on  Brighton-Downs,  he  datiYd  atvay, 
Much  was  he  pleas'd,  to  hear  a  fportfman  fay, 
That,  at  a  chace,  he  was  as  tight  a  hand, 
As  e'er  an  ill-bred  lubber  in  the  land. 

B  O  Z  Z  Y.   f 

One  morning,  Johnfon,  on  the  Ifle  of  Mull, 
Was  of  his  politics  exceffive  full : 
Quoth  he,  "  that  Pultney  was  a  rogue,  'tis  plain— 
"  Befides,  the  fellow  was  a  Whig  in  grain.'* 
Then  to  his -principles  he  gave  a  banging, 
And  fwore,  no  whig  was  ever  worth  a  hanging. 
"  'Tis  wonderful  (faid  he)  and  makes  one  flare, 
To  think,  the  Liv'ry  chofe  John  Wilkes,  Lord  May'r; 
A  dog,  of  whom  the  world  would  nurfe  no  hopes — 
Prompt  to  debauch  their  girls,  and  rob  their  ihops," 

MADAME   PIOZZI. 

Sir,  I  believe  that  anecdote  a  lie; 
But  grant,  that  Johnfon  faid  h~&y  the  ly, 


*  Page  207*  f  Page  424. 


As  Wilkes  unhappily  your  friendfhip  flbar'd, 
T*he  dirty  anecdote  might  well  be  fpar'd. 

B  O  Z  Z  Y. 

MADAM,  I  flick  to  truth,  as  much  as  you, 
And  damme,  if  the  ftory  be  not  true. 
What  you  have  faid  of  Johnfon  and  the  larks, 
As  much,  the  Rambler,  for  a  favage,  marks. 
'Twas  fcandalous,  ev'n  Candour  muft  allow, 
To  give  the  hifl'ry  of  the  horfe  and  cow. 
Who,  but  an  enemy  to  Johnfon's  fame, 
Dar'd,  his  vile  prank5  at  Litchfiekl-play-houfe,  name? 
Where,  without  ceremony,  he  thought  fit 
To  fling  the  man  and  chair  into  the  Pit? 
Who  would  have  regifter'd  a  fpeech  fo  odd, 
On  the  dead  Stay-maker,  *  and  Doftor  Dodd? 

MADAME    PIOZZL 

Sam  Johnfon's  threfhing-knowledge,  and  his  thatching, 
May  be  your  own  inimitable  hatching. 
Pray,  of  his  wifdom  can't  you  tell  more  news? 
Could  not  he  make  a  Ihirt,  and  cobble  flioes? 
Knit  (lockings,  or,  ingenious,  take  up  flitches — 
Draw  teeth,  drefs  wigs,  or  make  a  pair  of  breeches? 
You  prate  too  of  his  knowledge  of  the  Mint, 
As  if  the  Rambler  really  had  been  in't— 
Who  knows,  but  you  will  tell  us,  (truth  forfaking) 
That  each  bad  (hilling  is  of  Johnfon's  making: 
His,  each  vile  fix-pence,  that  the  world  hath  cheated— 
And  bis  the  art,  that  ev'ry  guinea  fweated? 
About  bis  brewing-knowledge  you  will  prate  too, 
Who  fcarcely  knew  a  hop  from  a  potatoe. 
And  though,  of  beer,  he  joy'd  in  hearty  fwigs, 
I'd  pit,  againft  his  taile,  my  husband's  pigs* 
R  2 


Fiozzfs  Anecdotes,  page  51,  flrft  editk 


B  o  z  z  y. 

How  conic!  your  folly  tell,  fo  void  of  truth, 
That  milerable  fiory  of  the  youth, 
Who  in  your  book,'  of  Do&br  Johnfon,  begs 
>!o!l  ierioiifly,  to  know,  if  cats' laid  eggsV 

MADAME   PIOZZL 

Who  told,  of  Mrs.  Montague,  the  lie — 
So  palpable  a  falfehood  ?  Bozzy,  fie. 

B  O  Z  Z  Y. 

\Vho,  mad'ning  with  an  anecdotic  itch, 
DcclarM,  that  Johnfon  caifd  his  mother  b-tch? 

MADAME   PIOZZL 

Who,  from  Mc  Donald's  rage,  to  favc  -his  fnout, 

Cut  t, verity  lines  of  defamation  out? 

B  o  z  z  y. 

Svlio  would  hr.ve  faij  a  word  about  Sam's  wig; 
Or  told  the  (lory  of  the  peas  and  pig? 
Who  would  have  told  a  tale  fo  very  flat, 
Of  Frank  the  black,  and  Hodge  the  mangy  cat? 

MADAME    PIOZZL 

Ewn  !  you're  grown  at  once  confounded  tender--* 
Of  Doctor  Johnfbn's  fame  a  fierce  defender. 
I'm  fure  you've  mentioned  many  a  pretty  ftory, 
I^'ot  much  redounding  to  the  Dover's  glory. 
/A  .<?M',  for  a  faint,  upon  us  you  would  paim  him — 
firil  ii.urdcr  the  poor  man,  and  then  embalm  him  ! 


B  o  z  z  y. 

And,  truly,  Madam,  Johnfon  cannot  boaft-- 
By  your  acquaintance,  he  has  rather  loll. 
His  character  fo  Ihockingly  you  handle — 
Youv'e  funk  your  comet- to  a  farthing  candle. 
Your  vanities  contrived  tlie  fage  to  hitch  in ; 
And  brib'd  him  with  the  run  of  all  your  kitchen: 
Yet  nought  he  better'd,  by  his  elevation— 
Though  beef  he  won— he  loft  his  reputation, 

MADAME    PIOZZL 

One  quarter  of  your  book,  had  Johnfon  read, 
Fift-Criticifin  had  rattled  round  your  hc^id. 
Yet  let  my  fatire  not  too  far  purfue — 
It  boa  its  foine  ww//—give  the  Dev'l  his  due. 
Where  Grocers,  and  where  Paftry-cooks  refide, 
Ihy  book,  with  triumph,  may  indulge  its  pride  :>] 
Preach,  to  the  patty-pans,  fentemious  (luff; 
And  hug  that  idol  of  the  nofe,  call'd  fnuff; 
With  all  its  (lories,  cloves  and  ginger  pleafe, 
And  pour  its  wonders  to  a  pound  of  che-,. 

BO  ZZ  Y, 

MADAM,  your  irony  is  'wond'rc-us  fine! 
Senfe  in  each  thought,  and  v/it  ii3  ev'ry  line. 
Yet  Madam,  when  the  leaves  of  my  poor  book, 
Vifit  the  Grocer,  or  the-p-aflry-cook, 
Tour**,  to  enjoy  of  fame  the  j lift  reward, 
May  aid  the  Trunk-maker  of  Pa-ul's  Church -Yard. 
In  the  fame  Ale-houfes  together  us\i? 
By  the  fame  finters  they  may  be  abused. 
l"i:e  grer.fy  fnufFers,  your's,  perchance,  may  wipe, 
And  mine,  high  honofd?  li^ht  a  Topor's  pipe. 


C         !9°        1 

The  prnife  of  Courtney  *  my  book's  fame  fe cures  t 
Now,  who  the  devil.  Madam,  praifes  your's? 

MADAME    PIOZZI. 

Thou&nds,  you  blockhead !  no  one  now  can  doubt  i\ 
For  not  a  foul  in.  London  is  without  it. 
The  folks  were  ready  CADKLL  to  devour, 
Who  fold  the  full  edition  in  an  hour  : 
,So !  Conrtaey's  praifes  lave  you—ah !  that  fquire 
Deals  (let  me  tell  you)  more  in  fmoke,  than  fire. 

B  O  Z  Z  Y. 

Zounds !  he  has  prais'd  me  in  the  f \veete ft  line— 
MADAME   PIOZZI.. 

Ay !  ay  i  tlie  rerfe  and  fubjeft,  equal  fliine  : 
.F.:w  are  the  mouths,  that  COURTNEY'S  wit  rehenrfe— 
Mere  cork  in  politics,  and  lead  in  yerfe. 

B  0  Z  Z  Y. 

We-1  MA'AM!  fince  all,  that  JOIIMSON  faid  or  wrote.*. 
You  hold  fo  facred— how  have  you  forgot 
To  grant  the  wonder-hunting  world,  n.  reading 
Of  SAM'S  Epiftle,  iutt  before  your  wedding; 
Beginiiing  thus,  (in  (trains  not  tbrni'd  to  llarter) 

44  MADAM, 

If  that  mofl  ignominious  matter^ 
Be  not  concluded" 

further  (hall  I  fay? 
No,  your  kind  felf  may  give  it  us,  one  day — 

*  The  lively  RATTLE,  of  the  Houfe  of  Commons— indeed,  it$ 
MOMUS  ;  who  feems  to  have  been  feledfced  by  his  condiments, 
more  for  the  purpose  of  laughing  at  the  misfortunes  of  his 
country,  than  healing  the  ivonnds.  He  is  the  Author  of  a  poem 
lately  publimed3  thu  endeavours  ton's  •oiribus^  to  -prove^  that  Dr. 
JOHNSON  was  a  brvtt  «is  well  as  a  moraliftl 


C      191      J 

And  juftify  your  paffion  for  the  youth, 
With  ail  the  charms  of  eloquence  and  truth, 

MADAME   PIOZZI. 

What  was  my  marriage,  Sir,  to  you  or  him  P 
lie  tell  me,  what  to  dp!  a  pretty  whim! 
//6%  to  propriety,  (the  bead)  exhort ! 
As  well  might  elephants  prefide  at  court. 
Lord !  let  the  world,  to  damn  my  match  agree — 
1  Tell  me  JAMES  BOSWELL,  what's  tbat  world  to  me  ? 
The  folk's,  who  paid  refpe<5t  to  Mrs.  Thrale, 
Fed  on  her  pork,  poor  fouls !  and  fwilFd  her  ale, 
May  ficken  at  Piozzi,  nine  in  ten — 
Turn  up  the  nofe  of  {corn—good  God!  what  then?- 
For  we— the  Dev'l  may  fetch  their  fouls,  fo  great — 
Tbey,  ke  ?p  their  company— and  I,  my  meat. 
When  the  poor  owls  ihall  beat  their  cage,  a  jail — 
I,  unconfin'd,  fhall  fpread  my  peacock-tail: 
Free,  as  the  birds  of  air,  enjoy,  my  eafe; 
Chuie  my  own  food,  and  fee  what  climes  I  pleafe. 
1  iuffer  only — if  I'm  in  the  wrong— 
So,  now,  you  prating  puppy,  bold  your  tongue. 

SIR    JOHN. 

For  fhame  \  for  fliamc  !  for  Heav'n's  fake,  pray  be 

(quiet-*- 

Not  Billingfgate  exhibits  fuch  a  riot. 
Behold!  for  Scandal,  you  have  made  a  feaft, 
And  turff  d  your  idol,  Johnfon,  to  a  bead : 
*Tis  plain,  that  tales  of  gholls,  are  arrant  lies, 
Or  inltantaneoufly,  would  johnfon's  rife  : 
Make  you  both  eat  your  paragraphs,  fo  evil — 
And,  for  your  treatment  of  him,  play  the  devil, 

jnft  like  two  Mohawk?,  on  the  man  you  fall 

t\To  rniird'rer  is  worfe  ferv'd,  at  Surgeon's  Hall. 


Tndead  of  adding  fplendor  to  his  name, 
Your  books  are  downright  gibbets  to  his  fame. 
Of  thofe,  your  anecdotes — may  I  be  "curd, 
If  I  can  tell  you,  which  of  them  is  word, 
You  never,  with  poderity,  can  thrive— 
Tis  by  the  Rambler's  death  alone,  you  live- 
Like  wrens,  that  (in  fome  volume,  I  have  read) 
Hatch'd,  by  drange  fortune,  in  a  horfe's  head. 
Poor  Sam  was  rather  fainting  in  his  glory — 
But  lo !  his  fame  lies  foully  dead  before  ye. 
Thus,  to  foine  dying  man ,  "(a  frequent  cafe) 
Two  doctors  come,  and  give  the  coup  dc  grace. 
Zounds !  Madam,  mind  the  duties  of  a  wife, 
And  dream  n@  more  of  Doftor  Johnfon's  life. 
A  happy  knowledge  in  a  pie  or  pudding, 
Will  more  delight  your  friends,  than  all  your  fttid'ing, 
One  Cut  from  ven'fon,  to  the  heart  can  fpeak 
Stronger,  than  ten  quotations  from  the  Greek: 
One  fat  Sir-Loin  poflefles  more  fublime, 
Than  all  the  airy  cadles  built  by  rhyme. 
One  nipperkin  of4ft/ngo,  with  a  toad, 
Ber.ts  all  the  dreams,  the  Mufe's  Fount  can  boad: 
Yes !  in  one  pint  of  porter,  lo !  my  belly  can 
Find  blifTes,  not  in  all  the  floods  of  Helicon. 
Enough  thofe  anecdotes  your  pow'rs  have  mown  i 
Sam's  Life,  dear  Ma'am,  will  only  damn  your  own. 

For  tbse^  James  Bofwell,  may  the  htincl  of  Fate 
Ari'cft  thy  goofe-quiil,  and  confine  thy  prate : 
Thy  egoulms,  the  world  difgufted  hears— 
Then  load,  with  vanities,  no  more,  our  ears, 
Like  foiiie  lone  Puppy,  yelping1,  all  night  long, 
That  tires  the  very  echoes  with  his  tongue. 
Yet  ihould  it  lie  beyond  the  pow'rs  of  Fate, 
To  (lop  thy  pen,  and  dill  thy  darling  prate  ; 
O  be,  in  ioiitude  to  live,  thy  luck— - 
A  chatfrmg  magpie,  on  the  ifie  of  Muck*. 

Thus  fyokc  the  judge,  then  leaping  frorn  the  chair, 

He  left,  in  cotiftor.iailoa  lad,  the//?//-: 


L      IPS      3 

Black  Frank  *  he  fought,  on  anecdote  to  cram. 
And  vomit  iirflj  f  a  LIFE  of  furly  Sam. 
Shock'd  at  the  little  manners  of  the  Knight, 
The  rivals  marv'Hng,  mark'd  his  fudden  flight; 
Then,  to  their  pens  and  paper,  rufli'd 
To  kill  the  mangled  Rambler,  o'er  again. 


*  Doftot  JOHNSON'S  Negro  fcrvaiiii 


t   The  KpciojTf's  volume  is  reported  to  be  in  great 
efs,  and  likely  to  diflanca  his  formidable  c 


N.  B.    Tlie  Quotations  from  Mr.  BoAyeH,  arc  jn 

the  fccond  Edition  of  hU  Jnurna!.  .......  Thofe  ironi  Mr*. 

ViozzJ,  frarn  tbv-  fiift  feiffioa  ci*  hvi*  A 


ODE   UPON   O  D  E; 


O   H, 

A  PEEP   AT  ST. 


NE  tr-TE  J  R  S's 


O   R, 


WHAT      YOU      WILL. 


ty$  me  ciwque  rapit  tempefiasy  dcferor  hofpes.    HOR, 

Juft-as  the  Maggot  bites,  I  take  my  way— 
To  Painters  now  my  court  refpeftful  pay ; 
Now,  (ever  welcome !)  on  the  Mufe's  wings, 
Drop  in  at  Windfir^  on  the  heft  of  KINGS  } 
"Now,  at  St.  James*.)  about  HANDEL  prate, 
Ucar  Odes,  tec  Lords  and 'Squires,  and  finite  ac  State, 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

READER, 

/  THINK  it  nee  eft-try  to  inform  thee,if  thou  1&3  not 
read  Mr.  WARTON'S  Ode,  that  I  mean  not  to  fay?  that 
he  hath^  totidem  verbis,  fung  what  I  have  affcrt^cd  of 
him  :  I  therefore  beg^  that  my  Ode  may  be  confidered 
as  an  Amplification  of  the  ingenious  Laureafs  idea. 


C        IP7        1 

Xs 

P   R   O    OE   M   I   U   M. 


NOW,  Pleader,  that  the  Laureat's  Pofr  fublime 
Is  deftin'd,  to  record  in  handfome  Rhyme, 

The  deeds  of  Monarchs,  twice  a  year: 

If  great-- how  happy  is  the  tuneful  tongue! 
If  pity ftil:— (as  Shakefpear  fays)  the  fong 

"  Mud  fuckle  fools,  and  chronicle  fmall  beer/* 

But  Bards  mud  take  the  uphill,  with  the  down: 
Kings  cannot  always  oracles  be  hatching: 

Maggots  are  oft  the  tenants  of  a  Crown — 
Therefore,  like  thofe  in  cheefe,  not  worth  the  catching. 

O  gentle  Reader!  if,  by  God's  good  Grace, 

Or  (what's  more  fought)  *$od  Intereft  at  Court, 

Thou  gett'ft,  of  Lyric  Trumpeter,  the  place, 

And  hundreds  are,  like  Gudgeons,  gaping  for't; — 

Hear !  (at  a  Palace  if  thou  mean' ft  to  thrive) 

And  of  a  (launch  old  Coachman  learn  to  drive. 

Wherf  er  employ'd,  to  celebrate  a  king. 

Let  fancy  lend  thy  Mufe  her  loftieft  wing— 
Stun,  with  thy  Minftrelfy,  the  frighten'd  fpherc ; 

Bid  thy  voice  thunder,  like  a  hundred  Batfries ; 

For  common  founds,  conveying  common  flatteries, 
Are  Zephyrs,  whifp'ring  to  the  royal  Ear. 

Know— Glutton-like,  on  praife  each  Monarch  crams : 
Hot  fpices  fuit  alone  their  pamper'd  Nature: 

Alas  !  the  ftomach,  parch'd  by  burning  drams, 
With  mad-dog  terror,  darts  at  firnplc  water. 
S 


C        ip8        ] 

Fierce  is  each  Maniac  for  applaufe : 

And,  as  a  horfe-pond  wide,  are  Monarch-maws— 

Form'd  therefore  on  a  pretty  ample  fcale : 
To  found  the  decent  panegyric  Note, 
To  pour  the  modeft  flatt'ries  down  their  throat, 

Were  ofF'ring  fhrimps  for  dinner  to  a  Whale. 

And  mind,  whene'er  thou  flrik'il  the  Lyre  to  Kings, 

To  touch,  to  Abigails  of  Courts,  the  Strings: 
Give  the  Queen's  Toad-eater  a  handfome  fop. 

And  fwear,  (he  always  has  more  Grace, 

Than  e'en  to  fell  the  meaneft  place- 
Swear  too,  the  Woman  keeps  no  Title-ihop  ; 
Sells  net,  like  Jews  in  Paul's  Church-yard  their  Ware, 
Who  on  each  pailenger,  for  Cuflom,  Hare ; 
And,  m  the  happy  tones  of  traffic,  cry, 
6i  Sberl  vat  you  buy,  Sbert — Madam!  vat  you  buy,?" 

Thus,  Reader,  ends  the  Prologue  to  my  Ode ! 

The  true-bred  Courtiers  wonder,  whilft  I  preach— 
And,  wich  grave  vizards,  and  rtretch'd  eyes  to  God, 

Pronounce  my  Sermon  a  moft  impious  fpeech. 
With  all  my  Spirit ! — let  them  damn  my  lays— 

A  Courtier's  curfes  are  exalted  praife. 


HEAR  a  ftartled  Moralift  exclaim, 
t;  Fie,  Peter !  Peter !  fie  for  flmme ! 

"  Such  counfeJ  dlfagrees  with  my  digeflion." 
Wjell!  well  then,  my  old  SOCRATES,  to  pleafe  thec-i 
For  much  I'm  willing  of  thy  qualms  to  eafe  thec— 

HI. nobly  take  the  other  fide  the  queftion. 


PAR    EXAMPLE: 

FAIR  Praife  is  flerling  Gold— all  fhould  defire  it— 
Fhtt'ry,  bale  coin— a  cheat  upon  the  Nation: 

And  yet 'our  vanity  doth  much  admire  it, 
And  really  gives  it  all  its  Circulation, 


Flatt'ry's  a  fly  infmuating  Screw— 
The  World— a  bottle  of  Tokay  fo  fine— 

The  Engine  always  can  its  Cork  fubdue, 
And  makes  an  eafy  Prisoner  of  the  Wine. 

Flatt'ry's  an  Ivy,  wriggling  round  an  Oak— 
This  Oak  is  often  honeft  blunt  John  Bull — 

Which  Ivy  would  its  great  fuf>porter  choke, 
Whilft  John  (fo  thick  the  walls  of  his  dark  skull)' 

Deems  it'a  pretty  Ornament,  and  firms — 

Till  Marfer  Ivy -creeps  into  John's  gu&s} 

And  gix^es  poor  thoughtlefs  JOHN  a  (it  of  Gripes: 
Then,  like  an  Organ,  op'nitig  ail  his  Pipes, 
John  roars;  and,  when  to  -a  Confumption  drained, 
Finds  out  the  Knave,  his  folly  cntertain'd. 

Praife,  is  a  rnodeiT  unaiTuming  Maid, 
As  (imply,,  as  a  Quaker-Beauty  drefl ; 

No  Orientation  hers—no  vain  Parade: 

Sweet  Nymph !  and  of  the  feweft  words  poiTefl ; 

Yet,  heard  with  revVence,  when  fhe  filence  breaks, 

She  dignifies  the  Man,  to  whom  {he  fpeaks. 

FLATT'RY'S  a  pert  French  Milliner— -a  Jade, 
Cover' d  with  rouge,  and  flauntingly  array 'd — 
Makes  faucy  Love  to  ev'ry  man  {he  meet*, 
And  offers  ev'n  her  Favours  in  the  Streets, 

And  yet,  inftead  of  meeting  public  Hiffes— 
Divines  fo  grave—  Philosophers  can  bear  her ; 
What's  flranger  dill,  with  childilh  rapture  hear  I 

Nay,  court  the  fmiling  Harlot's  very  Kiffes, 


200 


O  D  E. 


RK 


ICH  as  Dutch  cargoes,  from  the  fragrant  Eafir,. 

Or  cuftard-pudding,  at  a  city  feail, 
TOM'S  incenfe  greets  his  Sovereign's  hungry  nofe  r 

For—bating  birth-day  torrents  from  Parnaffus, 
4  And  new-year's  fpring-ti'de  of  divine  molafles— 
Fame,  in  a  fcanty  rill,  to  Windfor  flows  1 

Poets  (quoth  tuneful  Tom)  in  ancient  times, 
Delighted  all  the  country  with  their  rhymes; 

Sung  Knights  and  barbed  fteeds,  with  valour  big: — 
Knights,  who  encounter' d  witches— murder'd  wizzards5 
Ftegg'd  Pagans,  till  they  grumbl'd  in  their  gizzards: 

Rogues!  with  no  more  religion,  than  a  pig: 

--Knights,  who  illumin'd  unbelieving  fouls, 
Through  pretty  little  well-form'd  eye-let  holes, 
By  pious  pikes,  and  godly  lances,  made — 
Tools!  that  work'd  wonders  in  the  holy  trade; 
With  battle-axes,  fit  to  knock  down  bulls, 

And  therefore  qualified  (I  wot)  full  well, 

With  force,  the  facred  oracles  to  tell, 
Unto  the  thickeft  unbelieving  skulls : 

—Knights,  who,  fo  famous  at  the  game  of  tourney, 

Took  boldly,  to  the  Holy-Land,  a  journey, 

To  plant,  with  1  words,  in  hearts,  the  Gofpel-feeds  \ 

Juft  as  we  hole,  for  Cucumbers,  hot-beds, 

Or  pierce  the  bofom  of  the  full  en  earth, 

To  give,  to  radiili.es  or  onions,  birth : 

—Knights,  who,  when  tumbled  on  the  ho  (Hie  fieldx 
Aud  to  an  enemy  oblig'd  to  yield, 


Could  neither  leg,  nor  arm,  nor  neck,  nor  nob,  fKr: 
Poor  Dev'ls !  who  were,  like  Alligators,  hack'd, 
At  length  by  hammers,  hatchets,  Hedges,  crack'ci ; 

Dragg'd  from  their  coats  of  armour— like  a  lobiler. 

Great  (fays  the  Laurent)  were  the  Poet's  puffings 

On  idle,  daring,  red-crofs  raggarnuffins, 
Who,  for  their  childifhnefs,  defer/ d  a  birch: 

Quoth  TOM,  a  worthier  fubje<5t  now,  thank  God! 

Infpires  the  lofty  dealer  in  the  ode, 
Than  blockheads,  battling  for  old  Mother-Church, 

Times  (quoth  our  courtly  Bard)  are  alter' tl  quite— 

The  Poet,  fcorns,  what  charm'd  of  yore  the  fight- 
Goths,  Women,  Vandals,  Caftles,  Horfes,  Mares;' 

The  polifh'd  Poet,  of  the  prefent  day, 

Doth,  in  his  tarty  Shop,  difplay, 
Ah !  vaflly-  prettier  coloured  wares. 

— The  Poet  "moulds  his  harptto  manners  mil.u,'-" 
Quoth  TOM— to-  Monarch*,  who,  with  rapture  wild, 
Hear  their  own  praife,  with  mouths  of  gaping  wonde; 
And  catch  each  crotchet  of  the  birth-day  thunder: 

Crotchets,  that  fcorn  the  praife,  of  common-  folly— 
Though  not  mod  mufical—v&vft.  melancholy  : 
Ah !  crotchets  doom'd  to  charm  our  era's  no  more, 
Although,  by  Mr.  PARSONS,  fet.'m  jl'ore; 

Drear  and  eternal  Silence  dcom'd  to  keep, 
Where  the  dark  waters  of  Oblivion  deep— 
To  fi>eak  in  humbler  EngHih--* doom'd,  to  r^:^ 
With  court  addreiles,  in  a  mufly  cbeih 

Yet,  all  the  T.ady  'Awatetin  dednrJ, 

They  were  the  charming  ft  things  tlicy  ever  heard  T 

As  for  example— ail  the  Angel- Gideon:— 
That  is  my  lady,  a;id  her  daughters  fair, 
With  coal-black  eye-brows,  ana  I  v  £  •  , 

The  lovely  produce  cf  the  r»vo  re'ligi  3fi:  , 


•%k  202 

Thus,  in  their  virtues,  grey-hounds  belt  fuccecd, 
When  fportfmen  very  wifely  crofs  the  breed : 
And  thus,  with  nobler  luftre,  fhines  the  fowl. 
Begot  between  a  game-hen  and  an  owl. 

Sir  Sampfon  too,  declared,  with  voice  divine, 
^  D at  ft! nee  be  baf  turn  Cbreeftian,  and  eat  Hog, 

He  nebbcr  Jid  bear  Moojlic  half  Jlo  fine  ; 
No!  nebber^Jbince  be  lefs\ie  S&innygogtfe" 


His  Grace  of  Queensb'ry  too,  with  eyes  though  dim, 
And  one  deaf  ear,  was  there  in  wonder  drown' d  ! 

Lift'ning  in  attitude  of  Corp'ral  Trim, 

He  rais'd  his  thin  grsy  curl,  to  catch  the  found  : 

i  hen  fwore,  the  airs  would  never  meet  their  matches^ 

But  in  his  own  immortal  Glees  and  Catches. 

Yet  were  thofe  crotchets  all  condemn' d  to  reft, 

In  the  dark  bofom  of  a  roufty  chert! 

Crotchets,  that  f'orm'd  int<*ib  fweet  an  air, 

AS  charm'd  my  Lady  Mayorefs  and  Lord  Mayor : 

Who  thought — (and  really  they  were  true  Believers)-— 

The  M-ufic  equal!' d  marrow-bones  and  cleavers. 

Strains !  that  the  Rev'rend  Bifhops  had  no  qualms,. 
In  faying,  that  they  equalled  David's  pfalms; 
Bm  not  furpafs'd  in  melody,  the  bell, 
That  mournful  founcleth  an  Archbiihop's  knell : 
Stvains !  that  Sir  Jofeph  Mawbey  deem'd  divine  ; 
Sweet,  as  the  quavers  of  his  fatteft  fwine. 

Ev'n  great  *  Lord  Bnid'nelPs  felf  admir'd  the  drain,. 
In  all  the  tuneful  agonies  of  pain; 
VTho,  winking,  beat,  with  cluck-like  nods,  the  time, 
And  Ci'tli'd  the  Mnlic  and  the  words  fab-lime.. 

Too,  all  the  other  Lords,  with  plaudits  fwarming, 
Cry"'d  Rravo!  Bravo!  charming!  Bravo!  charming! 

TO  'i^iou?  Amateur" without  his  Lordfliip,  tlicrc  c*an  be 


C      203      3 

And  Majedy  itfelf,  to  mufic  bred, 
Pronounced  it,  "very,  very  good  indeed!'9 
Indulging,  p'rhnps,  the  Very  nat'ral  dream, 
That  all  its  charms  were  owing  to  the  theme. 

Not  but  fome  final  I  degree  of  harmlefs  pleafure, 
Might  in  the  brace  of  r~y~l  bofoms  rife. 

To  think,  they  heard  it  without  wade  of  treafure? 
As  fixpences  are  lovely  in  their  eyes. 

'A  few  months  fince,  I  heard  a  forward  dame, 
Thus,  in  a  tone  ot  impudence,  exclaim — 
/'  Good  God!  how  Kings  and  Queens  a  fong  adore? 
"  With  what  delight,  they  order  an  encore  I 
*4  When  that  fame  fong,  encored  for  nothing,  flows  f 
"  This,  Madam  Mara,  to  her  forrow,  knows." 

"  To  Windfor,-  fev'ral  times,  and  eke  to-Kewy 
"  The  r— y— 1  mandate  Madam  Mara  drew. 
*c  No  cheering  drop,  was  Mara  ask'd  to  fip— 
"  No  bread,  was  offcr'd  to  her  quiv'ring  lip. 
ct  Though  faint,  ibe  was  not  differ' d  to  fit  down — 

44  Heav'n  help  the  Goodnefs— Grandeur  of  the  Cr Hf 

"  Now,  tell  me,  Ladies,  will  it  be  believ'd, 

"  Mow  much,  for  fong  and  chaife-hire,  fhe  receiv'd? 

"  How  much  pray,  think  ye? — Fifty  Guineas — No." 
Mod  fnrely,  forty.--- — ^  No,  no."-- Thirty.— "  pohJ 
"  Pray,  Ladies,  guefs  in  reafon—come— again" — 
Alas!  you  jeer  us— Twenty,  at  the  lead; 

No  Man,  could  ever  be  fo  great  a  b d? 

As  not  to  give  her  twenty,  for  her  pain. — 
'  *6  To  keep  you  then  no  longer  in  fufpenfe, 

"  For  Madam  Mara's  chafe-hire  and  fweet  ndte, 
;  "  Out  of  their  wor.dzi'fiil  benevolence, 

"•  Their  bounteous  iM- ies  gave— not  a  Groat.1* 

*-  Ay!"  cry'd  a  fecond  ilandYcr,  with  a  fneer, 

4  I  know  a  dory  like  it— You  ihali  hear — 

6  Poor  Mrs.  Siddons,  Joe  was  order' d  out— 

;  To  wait  upon  their  M— j— -ies,  to  fpout — 

'  To  read  old  Shakefjoeare's  as  you  like  fV,  to  *em  ; 

6  And,  how  to  mind  their  (lops,*  and  commas,  Ihew  'em*. 


"  She  rend  and  fpouted— almoft  loft  her  breath — 
"  And,  Handing  all  the  time,  was  tir'd  to  death ; 
"  Whilft  both  their  M~j--ies,  in  royal  ftyle, 
"At  perfect  eafe,  were  fitting  all  the  while.. 
"  Not  offer' d  to  her,  was  one  drop  of  beer, 
"  Nor  wine,  nor  chocolate,  her  heart  to  cheer*- 
"  Heady  to  drop  to  earth,  the  muft  have  funk, 
"'But  for  a  child,  that  at  the  hardfhip  fhrunk — 
"  A  little  Prince,  who  in  ark' d  her  fituation, 
"  Thus,  pitying,  pour'd  a  tender  exclamation : 

"  La!  Mrs.  Siddons  is  quite  faint  indeed: 

"  How  pale !  Fm  fure,  fhe  cannot  longer  read. 

"  She  fomewhatr  wants,  her  fpirits  to  repair, 

•e  And  would,  Fra  fure,  be  happy  in  a  chair" 

"  What  Tollow'd?— Why,  the  r--y-l  pair  arofe, 

"  Surly  enough— one  fairly  may  ftippofe; 

**  And,  to  a  room  adjoining,  made  retreat, 

64  To  iet  her,  for  one  minute,  fteal  a  feat. 

"  At  length,  the  aftrefs  ceas'd  to  read  and  fpout, 

"  Where  Generofity's  a- crying  fin: 
"  Her  curt'fy  dropped— was  nodded  to— came  out— 

"  So  rich :  How  rich?  As  rich,  as  fhe  went  in" 

Such  are  the  ftories  twain—Why,  grant  the  facf^ 
Are  Princes,  pray,  like  common  folks,  to  aft? 

Should  Mara  call  it  cruelty,  and  blame 

Such  r-y--l  conduct,  Fd  cry,  Fie  upon  her! 

To  Mrs.  Siddons,  freely  fay  the  fame; 
Sufficient  for  fucb  people  is  the  honour  ! 

Ev'n  I,  the  BARD,  expect  no  Gifts  from  KINGS, 
Although  I've  faid  of  them  fuch  bandfome  things;' 
Nay,  not  their  eye's  attention,  whofe  bright  ray, 
Would,  Hire  the  Sun,  illumine  my  poor  Jay, 
And,  like  the  Sun,  fo  kind  to  procreation, 
Increaie,  within  my  brain,  the  maggot  nation* 
So  much  for  idle  tales.     Now,  Ms/.fe,  thy  itraia 
Digrdllve,  turn  to  dnuving-ree-us  :c:unu 


There  too  was  Pitt,  who  fcrap'd,  and  bow'd  to  ground, 

And  whifper'd  Majefty, 'twas  vadly  fine; 
Then  wifh'd,  fuch  harmony  could  once  be  found, 

Where  he,  each  day,  was  treated  like  a  Twine, 
By  that  arch  fiend,  Charles  Fox,  and  his  vile  party  ; 
Villains !  in  nought  but  black  rebellion,  hearty  : 
Fellows!  who  had  the  impudence,  to  place 
The  facred  Sceptre,  underneath  the  Mace ; 
And  twilled  ropes,  with  malice  difappointedy 
To  hang,  or  hamper,  the  poor  Lord's  anointed. 

To  whom,  a  certain  Sage,  fo  earned,  cry'd,. 

"  Don't  mind!  don't  mind!  the  rogues  their  aim  have 

(mifs'd ; 
"  Don't  fear  your  place,  whilft  I  am  well  fuppiy'd; 

"  But  mind  the  poverty  of  Civil-Lift. 

"  Swear,  that  no  K- g's  fo  poor  upon  the  globe; 

"  Compare  me— yes,  compare  me,  to  poor  fob. 
"  The  houfe  will  credit  thee— I  know  the  Ninnies; 
44  And  wife  and  I,  are  fond  of  Bags  of  Guineas. 

"  What,  what?  Pitt— ho??  We  mud  have  t'other  grant. 
"  What,  what?  You  know  that  B — ,  my  old  dead  Aunt,. 
"  Left  not  a  fixpence,  Pitt,  thefe  eyes'to  blefs, 
46  But,  from  the  Pariih  (av'd,  that  F— -1  at  H-jfe. 

46  But  mind  me— ha?,  to  plague  her  heart,  when  dying^ 
"  I  was  a  Nimrod  dill — a  conftant  hunter; 

*c  And  when  in  State,  as  dead's  a  Mack'rel,  lying, 
•*•  I  did  not  care  a  button,  for  the  B r. 

"  And  three  days  after  my  old  Aunt  was  dead, 
"  Which  fome  folks  thought  prodigioufly  profane., 

"  I  took  it— yes— I  toof^:  it  in  my  head, 
"  To  order  Sir  John  Brute,  at  Drury-Lane. 

Cl  Had  (he  refpefted  me,  I  do  aver, 

w  I  ILould  have  day'd  at  home,  and  thought  of  IlerJ* 


Lord  Rochford  too,  the  gentle  yoinh,  was  there,, 
Whole  fwect  falfetto  voice  is  often  fported 

In  glees  and  catches;  fo  that  all,  who  hear, 
Believe  a  pretty  Seini-vir  imported. 

Yet  was  'there  me,  who  much  the  day  decry'  d— 
Old  Lady  Mary  Duncan  (fays  Report)  — 

41  What,  no  dear,  dear  Caflrato  here!"  Ihe  figh'd, 
"  Why  then—  -P--x  take  the  voices  and  the  court; 

tc  Then  Lord  have  Mercy  on  -ray  tortur-M  ears, 

"  And  fhield  me  from  the  fhouts  of  fuch  He-bears  !" 

^  Where,  where  is  Pacchierotti's  heart-felt  Strain? 

"  Where  Rubinelli's  foflenuto  note  ? 
*'  That  tickled  oft  my  fignlng  foul  to  pain, 

"That  bade  my  fenfes  in  Eiyfium  float? 
**  Avaunt  !  you  vile  bh'.ck-benrded  rogues  —  a  vaunt  1- 
*'  'Tis  finoother  chins,  and  fweeter  tones,  / 


My  Lord  of  Exeter  was  alfo  there  ; 

Who,  marveling,  cock'd  his  time-difcernin^  ear 

To  drains,  that  did  fuch  honour  to  a  throne  : 

There  Uxbridge  taught  the  audience,  how  to  think; 

\Vith  much  figruficarit  and  knowing  wink, 
And  fpeeches,  clad  in  wifdom's  critic  tone  ; 

Who  look'd  muflcians  /^in?ff^,.wkb  half-fhut  eyes; 
Moll  iblemn,  moft  chromatically  wife  ! 

Sandwich,  the  glory  of  each  jovial  meeting, 

7$/$  Piddler,  now-  ......  now  tbat^  fo  kindly  greeting,- 

Appeared,  and  fhrewdly  pour'd  \\is-babs  and  hums: 

Great  in  Tattoo,  my  Lord,  and  Croft-hand  Roll; 

Great  in  the  dead-march--ftroke  fublhne  of  Saul; 
.He  beats  old.*  Afhbridge,  on  the  kettle-drums* 

What  pity!  to  our  military  ho  ft, 

That  luch  a  charming  drummer  ihould  be  loft! 


*  A  Kettle-drummer  of  great  celebrity. 


And  feel,  through  life,  his  glories  overcaft 

At  that  dull  *  board,  where,  never  could  he  learr^ 
Of  fhips,  the  diifrence  between  item  and  ftern, 

Hen-coops  and  boats,  the  rudder  and  the  mad. 

Say—'inidlt  the  tuneful  tribe,  was  Edmund  Burke? 

No !  Mun  was  cutting  out,  for  Hayings,  work ; 
Writing  to  Coufin  Will,  and  Co.  to  league  'em, 

Againit  that  rogue,  who  like  a  ruffian  rofe, 

And  tweak' d  a  Bulfe  of  Jewels,  from  the  uofe 
Of  Dames,  in  India,  chriften'd  Manny  Begum. 

Edmund !  w-h-o  formerly  look'd  fierce  as  Grimbald 
On  that  molt  horrid  imp,  Sir  Thomas  Rumbold, 
Vow'd,  like  a  iheep,  to  flea  that  Eaftern  Thief; 

Till  ft  range  good  fortune  open'd  Edmund's  eyes ; 

Oh !  then  he  heard  of  Innocence  the  cries, 
And,  like  Jew-Converts,  damn'd  his  old  belief. 

Yet,  \Qt-fome  praife  for  Mini's  converfion  pafs^ 
To  that  great  wonder-worker,  Saint  Dundas. 

Edmund  !  who  battled  hard  for  Powell's  life, 
And  fivore,  no  man,  in  virtue,  e'er  weni  further: 

To  prove  which  oath,  this  Powell  took  a  knife, 
And  made  the  world  believe  it,  by  Self-Murtber, 

Reader -fuppofe,  I  give-fhee  a  fmall  Ode, 
Made,  when  vile  Tippoo  Saib  in  triumph  rode, 
And  play'd  the  Devil  on  our  Indian  borders, 
In  perfon,  or,  by  vile  Satanic  orders: 
When  Mr.  Burke,  fo  famous  for  fine  fpeeches, 

From  trope  to  trope,  a  downright  Babbit,  skipping. 
Meant,  fchool-boy  like,  to  take  down  Ballings' breeches, 

And  give  the  noble  governor  a  whipping. 
;ff  rightly^  Reader,  Ltranflate  thy  phiz, 
Thou  fmifil  confent.— I  thank  thee— here'  it  is. 


*  The  Admiralty. 


C        208        ] 

-But  mark  my  cleanlinefs,  ere  I  begin: 
Know,  I've  not  caught  the  rage  of  party-fin, 
To  Pitt,  or  Fox,  I  never  did  belong: 
Truth,  Truth  I  feek— fo  help  me,  God  of  fong! 

P'rhaps,  at  a  Heathen  oath,  thou  may' ft  demur: 
Well  then,  fufpicion  that  I  may'nt  incur, 

But,  like  a  Chriftiato,  fwear— I  do  not  fham — 
By  all  the  Angels  of  yon  lofty  sky, 
Where  burning  Seraphhns  and  Cherubs  cry-— 

I'm  of  no  party— curfe  me,  if  I  am! 

By  all  thofe  wonder-monger  Saints,  and  Martyrs, 
Cut,  for  the  love  of  God,  in  halves  and  quarters; 
By  each  black  foul,  in  Purgatory  frying; 

By  all  thofe  whiter  fouls,  though  we  can't,  fee  'em? 

Singing  their  Ave-Mary  and  Te-Deum? 
On  yon  bright  clouds—I  fwear,  I  am  not  lying. 

No!  free  as  air.  the  Mufe  mail  fpread  her  wing; 
Of  whom,  and  when,  and  what  ihe  pleafes,  ling; 
Though)  Privy  Councils,  jealous  of  her  note, 
Prefcrib'd,  of  late,  a  halter  for  her  throat.  * 

Let  folly  fpring— my  eagle— falcon — kite — 
Hawk— fatire— what  you  will— ihall  mark  her  flight; 
Through  huts,  or  palaces  ('tis  juft  the  fame) 
With  equal  rage,  purfue  the  panting  game; 
And  lay  (by  princes,,  or  by  peafants,  bred) 
Low,  at  the  owner's  feet,  the  Cuckow  dead. 


ODE   TO  EDMUND, 

MUCH  edified  am  I,  by  Edmund  Burke! 
Well-pleas'd,  I  fee  his  patriot-mouth  at  work. 


*  This  is  a  Piece  of  fecret  Hiftory, 


[        209        ] 

Grinding  away,  for  poor  Old  England's  good: 

He  gives,  of  Elocution,  fuch  a  feaft  ! 

He  tells  of  fuch  vile  doings  in  the  Eaft  ! 
And  fights,  as  'twere  for  his  own  flefh  and  blood. 
Sbroff,  Chout,  Lack^  Otnra,  Duftuck,  Nabob,  Bunder, 
Crore,  Choultry,  Begum,  leave  his  lips,  in  thunder. 

With  matchlcfs  Pathos,  Mun  defcribes  the  Gag, 
Employ' d  by  that  vile  fon  of  Hyder  Naig, 

Nam'd  Tippoo.— Gags  !  that  Britiili  mouths  deteft  ; 
Occafion'd  partly  by  that  man,  fo  fad, 
That  Haftings  !  Oh  1  cleferving  all  that's  bad  ; 

That  Villain  !  Murd'rer  !  Tyrant  !  Dog  !  Wild-beaft  ! 

Poor  Edmund  fees  poor  Britain's  fetting  (un  : 
Poor  Edmund  groans— and  Britain  is  undone  ! 

Reader,  thou  had,  I  do  prefume, 

(God  knows,  tho')  been  in  a  fnug  room, 

By  coals  or  wood,  made  comfortably  warm  ; 

And  often  fancy'd,  that  a  (lorm  without 

Hath  made  a  diabolic  rout  ; 
Sunk  fhips-- tore  trees  up— done  a  world  of  harm. 

Yes  :  thou  haft  lifted  up  thy  tearful  eyes, 
Fancying,  thou  heard'ft,  of  mariners,  the  cries  ; 
And  figh'd,  6  How  wretched  now  muft  thoufands  be  ! 
6  Oh  !  how  I  pity  the  poor  fouls  at  fea  !' 
When,  lo  !  this  dreadful  temp  eft,  and  his  roar  ; 
A  Zephyr — in  the  key-hole  of  the  door  ! 

Now,  may  not  Edmund's  bowlings  be  a  figh, 

Prefling  thro'  Edmund's  lungs,  for  loaves  and  fifties. 

On  which  he  long  hath  look'd,  with  longing  eye, 
To  fill  poor  Edmund's  not  o'er-burden'd  ditties  ? 

Give  Mun  a  fop  ;  forgot  will  be  complaint, 

Britain  be  fafe,  and  Haftings  prove  a  Saint  ! 
t 


Now  for  the  Drawing-room — O  Mufe,  fo  madding  5 
Delighted,  ia  digrefiion  to  be  gadding  ! 

Hampden  and  Fortefcue  (brave  names- !)  attended  ; 
The  lad,  in  catches,  wonderfully  mended. 
The  lovely  Lady  Clarges  too  was  there, 

To  all  the  Graces,  as  to  Mufic,  burn ; 
Whole  note,  fo  tweedy  melting,  foothes  the  ear  ! 

Soft?  ns  the  Rubin's  to  the  bluih  of  morn  ! 

There  too  the  rare  I7iol-di-gamba^  Pratt, 

Whofe  fingers  fair  the  firings  fo  nicely  pat. 

And  bow,  that  brings  out  founds,  unknown -at  Babet; 

Tfco'  not  fo  fweet,  as  thofe  of  Mr.  Abel. 

Dear  Maid  !  the  daughter  of  that  Prince  of  Pratts, 
Who  mufic  cons,  as  well  as  law  ;  and  fwears, 
The  girls  iha'l  fcrub  no  foul's  but  Handel's  airs  ; 

To  whom,  he  thinks  our  great  Compofers,  Cats  \ 
Id  ell,  Sacchini,  Haydn,  Bach,  and  Gluck, 
And  twenty  more,  who  never  had  the  luck 

To  piesilc,  the  nicer  ears  of  fome  crown' d  folk  :] 
Ears,  that,  like  other  people's,,  tho'  they  grow,   , 
Poor  creatures  !  really  want  the  fenfe,  to  know 

Pfa  hi:- runes,  ib  mournful,  from  the  old  Black  Jolu1. 

That  mufty  Miific-hunter  too— Muf.  D. 
Much  travell'd  Barney,  came  to  hear  and  fee  : 
He,  in  his  tour,  who  fauna  fuch.  great  Protectors  ; 
Kings,  Queens,  Dukes,  Margraves,  Margravines,  Electors, 
Who  ask'd  the  Doctor  many  a  gracious  queftion, 

And  treated  him,  with  marv'lous  hofpitality  j 
GueOlng,  he  had  as  clever  a  digeftion, 

For  Meat  and  Drink,  ns  Mufic  of  rare  quality 

Not  with  much  glee,  the  Doctor  heard  the  Ode  | 
But  turn'd  kis  difappointed  eyes  to  God  j 


f  *"  ] 

And  wifhM  it  his  own  fetting,  with  a  figh  : 
For,  ere  to  SalWry  Vhoufe  the  Doctor  came, 
To  get,  as  Ode-fetter,  enrolled  his  name, 

Behold  !  behold  !  *  the-  wedding  was  gone  by  /' 

Ah  !  how  unlucky,  that  the  Prize  was  loft  ! 

Parfons,  who,  daring,  daih'd  thro'  thick  and  thtu  ! 

Eclipfe  the  fecond  !— got,  like  lightning,  in, 
When  Burney,  jutt  had  reach' d  the  diftance-pofL 

Yet,  gentle  Mufe,  let  Candour  this  allow, 
That,  tho'  his  heart  was  mortified  enow, 
The  Doctor  did  his  Rival's  art  admire, 
And  own'd  his  maiden  Crotchets  full  of  fire  .; 
Crotchets  !  tho'  fweet,— alas  1  condemn'd  to  lie 
Hid,  like  moft  royal  virtues,  from  our  eye  ! 

'Crotchets,  that  fongful  Mr.  Parfons  ties 

To  Tom's  big  phrafe,  to  make  fublimer  cries  : 

Thrice  happy  union,  to  entrance;  t'ue  ibiil  ! 
How  like  the  notes  of  cats-— a  vocal  pair — 
By  boys  (to  catch  their  wi'ld  and  minaled  air) 

Tied>-taii  to  tail,  and  thrown  acrofs  a  pole  ! 

But  where  was  great  Sir  Watkyn,  all  this  time  ? 

Why  heard  Ire  not  the  air,  and  lofty  rhyme  ; 

The  fleek  Welfh  Deity,  who  mufic  knows  $ 
The  Alexander  of  the  Tot'n'am  troops,* 
Who,  tortur'd  by  his  dampings,  nods,  grunts,  whoop.V 

Do  wond'rous  execution  with  their  bows  ? 

Sir  Watkyn,  deep  in  difmal  dudgeon  gone, 

Far,  in  his  Cambrian  |  villa,  fat  alone  r 

To  Mrs.  Walfingham,  §  he  fcrubb'd  his  bafs, 
Whilft  anger  fvvell'd  the  Volume  of  his  face  •> 

T2 

*  Sir  Wat-ty'n  is  a  Member  of  the  Ancient  Mufic  Concert  in 
Tottesi h:\m-ltreet,  and  much  attended  to  both  for  his  Art  aod 
Science. 

|  Wynneftay. 

§  The  Qiwrel  between  the  Knight  and  the  Lady 
one— — T0nt<cnt  animis  csleftibvs  ir<s  ? 


[  212  1 

Plaining,  like  fans  of  London,  in  a  fog. 

Of  Mrs.  Walfingham  he  fung,  with  ire  ; 

His  eyes  as  red,-  as  ferrets'  eyes,  with  fire  ; 
His  mighty  foul,  for  vengeance,  all  agog. 

Achilles  thus,  affronted  to  the  beard, 

His  fledge-like  fift,  o'er  Agamemnon,  rear'd, 

And,  down  his  throat,  would  fain  his  words  have  ramm'd : 
Who,  after  oaths— (a  pretty  decent  volley) — 
And  rating  long  the  Monarch,  for  his  folly, 

Inform7  d  the  6  King  of  men*  he  might  be  d — mn'd  > 
Then  to  his  tent,  majeflic  flrode,  to  ftrmn, 
And  fcrape  his  anger  out,  on  TweedJe-dum. 

*  He  moulds  his  harp  (quoth  Tom)  to  Manners  mild  ;* 
To  Kings,  for  babe-like  manners,  fimple  ftyi'd, 

And  graced  with  virtues  that  would  fill  a  tun* 
To  him  the  poet  humbly  makes  a  leg, 
Who,  goofe-like,  brooding  o'er  the  fav'rite  egg 

Of  Genius,  gives  the  Phoenix  to  the  Sun  : 

To  him^  who  for  fuch  eggs  is  always  watching, 
'  And  never  more  delighted,  than  when  hatching  ; 
Which  makes  the  number,  offer' d  to  the  Sun, 

So  vail  ! — why,  verily,  as  thick  as  peas  ; 

That  people  may  colled:,  with  equal  eafe, 
A  thoufand  noble  inftances,  as  one. 

•  What  numbers  wifdom  to  his  care  hath  giv'n  ! 

All  hatch'd  !— fome  living—others  gone  to  heav'n  ! 
Thus,  in  the  *  Pinnick's  neil,  the  Cuckow  lays  ; 

Then,  eafy  as  a  Frenchman, takes  her  flight: — 
Due  homage,  to  the  eggs,  the  Pinnick  pays, 

And  brings  the  little  lubbers  into  light. 


*   A  Bird,  fo  called,  in  fome  countries,  that  attends 
tae  Wile  Bird,  and  feeds  him. 


C        s*3        ] 

The  modern  Poet  fings  (quoth  Tom  again) 
Of  M rclis,  who,  with  (economic  fury, 

Force  all  the  tuneful  world  to  Tot'n'am  Lane, 
And  lock  up  all  the  doors  of  harralefs  Drury,* 

Say,  why  this  Curfe  on  Drury's  harmlefs  door, 
That  thus,  in  anger,  M --y  Ihould  lock  it  ? 

Mufe,  are  the  TotVam-Street-lubfcribers  poor  ? 
Will  Drury  keep  fome  pence  from  TotVam's  pocket  ? 

Doth  threatening  bankruptcy  extend  a  gloom, 

O'er  the  proud  Walls  of  •  TotVam's  regal  room  ?. 

Perchance  'tis  Mnra's  fori£,  that  gives  offence  ! 

Bine  ilhe  1acryw<e  /—Oh  dear— oh  dear  ! 
The  long,  that  once  could  charm  the  R---1  fetife, 

Delights,  alas  !  no  more  the  royal  ear, 
Gods  !  can  a  guinea  deaden  ev'ry  note, 
And  make  the  Nightingale's,  a  Ruv^n's  Throat'? 

But  let  me  give  his  M y  a  hint, 

Frefh  from  my  brain's  prolific  irrn:  ; 
Suppofl1,  we  Amateurs  iliould,  in  a  fury, 

Ju-ft  take  it  in  our  John-Bull  heaJs,  to  fay 

'(And  lo  !  'tis  very  probable  v/e  maf)--- 
*'  We  will  have  Oratorios  u:  Drury  ?' 

How  mud:  he  look  ?— Blank— wotivbrfuily  blr.nk  ] 
And  think  fuch  Speech  an  infii't  on  his  Rank. 
What  could  he  do  ?—  oppofe 'wit!i  ire  fj  hot  ? 
I  think  his  M had  better  not  ! 


*  The  Oratorios  wore  r'o  hr.ve  b.een  p^rforniccl  ?tt  Dnirr- 
lanc,  in  this -Year,  under  ihe  Cc'iar.ct  of  Mr.  Lin'ey  and  Dr. 
Araold.— iV'nchm  Mara  w:vs  to  have  exhibited  her  amazing 
Powers.  This  would  hr.ve  beer,  a  Death -ftroke  to  the  Pi:imy 
Perform ance  in  Totteif.i?.n:-(.Vy:'. : -'<o.;r.  How  ihoul'd  the  i?ig- 
my  he  hived  ?  —"By  kiliing  the  Gir.nt  ,•— and  lo  !  his  Death- 

warrant  hath  been  figned. By  what  Power  of  the  Conftitu- 

tion  ?  None  !    Can   the    (.Irani  Monarq.te    do    more  ?    Qtticju:j 
drlit\mt  &fgfS9  £le $nmt ur  A*iivi» 


C       214      3 

Kings  fnould  be  never  in  the  wrong  *— 
They  never  are,  fome  wife-acres  declare. — 

Poh  !  fuch  a  fpeech  may  do  for  Birth-day  Song  ; 
But  makes  £7?,  Philofophic  People,  flare  ! 

1  know  a  certain  Owner  of  a  C n, 

Not  quite  a  hundred  miles  from  Windfor-Town, 

Who  harbour'd,  of  his  Neighbour,  horrid  Notions  ; 
A  Widow  Gentlewoman— who,  he  fuid, 
Popp'd  from  her  Window,  ev'ry  day,  her.  head, 

Impertinent,  to  watch  his  royal  motions. 

*  What?  what?  (quoth  M~»— fly)  I'll  teach  her  eyes, 

*  To  take  my  motions  by  furpriie 

*  One  cannot  breaktaft,  dine,  drink  tea,  nor  fup, 

'  But,  whip  !  the  woman's  head  at  once  is  out, 
'  To  fee,  and  hear,  what  we  are  all  about. 

*  I'll  cure  her  of  that  trick—and  block  her  up.' 

Mad,  as  his  Military  Grace,f 
For  fortifying  ev'ry  place, 

From  dock-yards,  to  a  Neceflary-Houfe 

The  M ch  dreamt  of  nothing  but  the  Wall 

The  faucy  Spit  in  petticoats  to"  maul,      «• 
And  make  her  eagle  Pride  crawl,  like  a  Loufe. 

*  Yet  let  us  give  an  Inftance  of  wrong  proceeding.— A  cer 
tain  K and  Q ,  inftcad  of  having  Concerts  at  their  Pa 
lace,  in  the  Style  of  other  Princes,  fuch  as  the  King  of  France., 
the  Emperor,  the  Emprefs  of  Ruffia,  &c.  have  entered  into  a 
private  fubfcription  for  a  Concert  in  a  pityful  Street-— They 
pay  their  Six  Guineas  a-piece  ;    and,    what  is  more  extraordi 
nary,  get  in  their  children,    as  we  are  told,  gratis  I   What   is 
dill  more   extraordinary,   they  have   entered  into  a  Bond  for 
Lwrowlng  Two  Thoufand  Pounds  for  putting  the  Houfe  into  a 

decent  Repair  ;    fit  for  the  Reception   of  the  K of  the 

firft  Empire  upon  Earth..    Of  whom  has  this  Money  been  bor 
rowed  ?  Marvelling  Pleader  !   of  the  poor  Mulicians'Fund  !— 
which  Money  might  have  been  placed  out  at  a  much  fuperior 
Advantage.     Let  me  add,   that  the  Subfcribers  order  a  formal 
Uehearfal  previous  to  every  Concert  ;   fo  that,   in  fact,   they 
get  a  double  Concert  for  their  Money ;-— undoubtedly,  to  the 
vull  Satisfaction  of  the  Fingers  of  the   happy  Cramer^   JBorgbiy 
Meld)  Cerveft,-;,  &.c.    who,    in  this  Inftance,  earn  their  tyJoney 
rot  very  unlike  the.  patient    and  laborious  Animal,  called  a 

1  Duke  of  Richmond. 


C      215     3 

Now  workmen  came,  with  formidable  ftones, 

To  block  up  the  poor  Widow  Jones 

Who  mark'd  this  dread  blockade,  and  with  a  frown. 

And  to  the  caufe  of  freedom  true 

One  of  the  Old  Hen's  Chicks  fo  blue, 
Fall  as  the  K built  ///>,  the  Dame  pulFd  down. 

'Twas  up— 'twas  down—'twas  up  again — 'twas  down, 
Much  did  the  country,  with  this  Battle,  ring, 
Between  the  valiant  Widow  and  the  K , 

That  admiration  rais'd,  in  Windfor  Town  : 

The  mighty,  battling  Broughtofis,  and  the  Slacks, 
Ne'er  knew  more  Money  betted  on  their  Backs. 

Sing,  heav'nly  Mufe,  how  ended  this  affray  !— 
Jull  as  it  happens,  faith,  nine  times  in  ten, 
When  dames  fo  fpirited  engage  with  Men --> 

That  is— the  valiant  widow  won  the  day. 

The  K could  not  the  Woman  maul  ; 

But  found  himfelf  moflrihamefully  defeated  : 

Then  very  wifely  he  retreated, 
And  very  prudently  gave  up  the  Wall. 

Now  fing,  O  Mufe,  the  warlike  Ammunition, 
Us'd  by  the  Dame,  in  her  balleg'd  condition, 

That  on  the  Hod  of  vile  Invaders  flew  ; 

Say,  did  no  God  nor  Goddefs  cry  out,  '  Shame  !' 
And  nobly  halien,.  to  relieve  the  dame 

From  fuch  a  refolute  and  hoftile  crew  ? 

Yes— Neptune,  like  her  Guardian-Angel,  kind, 
Joined  the  poor  Widow  Jones,  and  ran  up  flairs  ; 
There  fiercely  caught  up  certain  Earthen-Wares, 

And,  pleas" d  his  ftiv'rite  element  to  find, 

Bid,  on  their  heads,  the  briny  torrents  flow, 
And  wafn'J,  like  Shags,  the  Combatants  below. 

The  Goddefs  Cloacina,  too,  fb  hearty, 

Ruili'd  to  the  Widow's  houfe,  and  join'd  the  party, 


C      «*•     3 

But  fay,  what  ammunition  filPd  her  hand,. 
Much  glory  for  the  Widow  to  acquire, 
And  give  to  public  icorn  the  daring  band  ? 

What  that  ftrong  ammunition  was,  -the  Bare! 

Heard  as  a  fecret— therefore  mull  not  tell  : 
Nor  would  he,  for  a  thoufand  pounds  reward, 

To  Beaux  reveal  it, -or  the  fweeteft  Belie. 
Yet  Nature  poflibly  hath  made  a  fnout, 
Bled  frith  fagacity  to  fmell  it  ouu 

Reader,  doi/t  fland  fo,  flaring  like  a  calf; 
Thy  gaping  attitude  provokes  my  laugh  ; 
Thou  think'0:,  that  Monarchs  never  can  aft  ill  : 
Get  thy  head  fhav'd,  thou  Fool  !   or  think  ft  ftill  2 

Whether  thou  deem' ft  'ray  ftory falfe  or  true, 

I  value  not  a  Ilulh. 
Wilt  have  another  ?— *  No.'— Nay,  prithee  do. 

*  I  wo'n'f— Ttlou  {halt,  by  Heav'ns  !  fo  prithee  hufht 

But  ere  I  give  the  Tale,  ray  tuneful  bride,. 
My  Lady  Mufe,  (hall  talk  of  Kings  and  Pride. 
Some  Kings,  on  Thrones,  are  children  on  the  Lap  ; 

Children,  that  all  of  us  fee  ev'ry  day  ; 
Brats,  that  kick,  fquall,  and  quarrel  with  their  Pap, 

Tearing  and  fwearing,  they  will  have  their  way  : 
And  what,  too,  their  great  reputation  rifles, 
Kings  quarrel,  juil  like  children,  about  Trifles. 

Moreover— 'tis  a  terrible  affair 

For  Kingly  Worlhip,  to  be  kick'd  by  Fellows, 
Who  probably  feed  half  their  time  on  air, 

Mending  old  Kettles,  or  old  Bellows. 

My  Lady  Pride's  a  very  lofty  Being, 

.Much  pleas' d  with  people's  fcraping,  bowing,  kneeling,- 

Fruitful  in  Egotifms,  and  full  of  brags  ; 

Her  Ladyihip,  in  nought,  can  brook  denial  \ 

And,  as  for  Infuk,  'tis  a  killing  Trial, 
.And,  more  efpecially,  from  Men  of  Rags, 


C        «7       1 

For  Pride— (fucli  is  her  Statelinefs,  alas  !)— 
Rather  than  feel  the  kickings  of  an  A  fa 
Would  calmly  put  up  with  a  Leg  of  Horfe; 
Though  pelting  her  with  fifty  times  the  force  ; 
Nay,  though  her  brains  came  out  upon  the  ground 
Were  brains,  within  her  head-piece,  to  be  found* 


A    KING    AND  A    B  R  I  C  K -  -  M  A  K  B  &* 
A      TALE, 

A  KING,  near  Pimlico,  with  Note  and  Stats, 

Did  very  much  a  neighboring  Brick-kiln  hate, 
Becaufe  this  kiln  did  vomit  nafty  fmoke  ; 

Which  fmoke— I  can't  fay  very  neatly  bred, 

Did  very  often  take  it  in  the  head, 
To  blacken  the  great  houfe,  and  try,  the  1C—  -to choke* 

His  facred  Majefty  would,  fputt'ring,  fay. 
Upon  a  windy  clay, 

*  Til  make  the  Rafcal  and  his  Brink-kiln  hop  ; 

1  P-x  take  the  fmoke— the  fulphur  !— Zounds  f 

•  It  forces  down  my  throat,  by  pounds  ; 

*  My  belly  is  a  downright  blackfmith's  Ihop/ 

One  day,  he  was  fo  pefter'd  by  a  cloud- 
He  could  not  bear  it,  and  thus  bawl'd  aloud  : 

Go,  (roar'd  his  M y  unto  a  Page  ; 

Work'd,  like  a  lion,  to  a  dev'lim  rage) 

'  Go,  tell  the  Rafcal,  who  the  Brick-kiln  owns, 
6  That,  if  he  dares  to  burn  another  brick, 
'  Black  all  my  fioufe  like  hell,  and  make  me  fick, 

*  I'll  tare  his  Kiln  to  rags,  an4  break  his  bones.' 

Off  fat  the  Page,  and  foon  his  errand  told  : 
Dn  which  the  Brick-maker— a  little  bold? 


t        fiig        ] 

ExcIaimM,  e  He  break  my  btfires,  good  Matter  Page" 

*  He  fay,  my  Kiln  fha'nrburn  another  brick, 

*  Becaufe  it  blacks  his  Houfe,  and  makes  him  fick 

*  Go  —  give  my  Compliments  to  Mailer's  rage, 

4-  And  fay,  more  Brick*  I  am  refolv'd  to  burn  ; 

*  And—  (if  the  Smoke  his  Worthip's  ftoraach  turnj) 
'  To  flop'  -'his  Royal  mouth  and  Snout  ; 

*  Nay,  more,  good  PAGE  ;  His  M---~y  ihnll  find., 
6  I'll  always  take  th'  advantage  of  the  wind, 

*  And,  dam'rne,-  try  to  frnoke  him  out?- 

This  was  a  dreadful  mefTage  to  a  K  ----- 

From  a,  poor  ragged  Rog&eTthit  dealt  in  mud  : 
Yet,  though  fo  impudent  a'  thing, 

The  Fellow's  Rhet'ric'  could  not  be  with  flood. 
Stiff,  as  ogainft  poor  I  ladings;  Edmund  Burke, 
This  Brick-maker  went,  tooth  un:!  nail,  to  work, 
And  '  fbrrn'd  a  true  VESUVIUS  on*  the  eye  : 
The  fmoke,  in  pitchy  volumes,  rolfd  along, 
Kufh'd  thro'  the  royal  dome,  with  fulphur  itrong, 
And  then^  afcending,  darken'd  all  the  sky. 

Thus  did  this  cloud  of  darknefs  daily  fhade 
The  building",  for  the  Lord's  Anointed  made, 

And  blacken'  d  it,  like  Palls,  that  grace  a  burying  i 
Thus  \vas  this  Man  of  Mud  and  ftraw  employ'd^ 
And,  at  the  thought  fo  wicked*  overjoy'd, 

Of  Imoaking  his  Liege  Sov'reign  like  a  Herring  .; 

Of  ferving  him,  .as  we  do  parts  of  fvvine, 

Thought,  with  green  peas,  a  difn  extremely  fine, 

But  lo  !  tlfis  baneful  Rogue  of  Brick, 

Fell,  for  his  Sov'reign,  fortunately  fick, 

And,  ere  the  wretch  could  pleafe  his  fplcen  and  pride, 

Of  turning  Monarchs  into  Bacon—  dy  VI, 


The  modern  Bnrd  ("qucth  Tom)  fublimely  fings 
Of  fharp  and  prudent  ceconcniic  Kings, 

Who  rams,  and  ewes,  and  lambs,  and  bullocks,  feed, 
And  pigs,  of  ev'ry  fort  of  breed  ; 


•«•- OF  Kings,  who  pride  themfeives  on  fruitful  fovrs  ; 

Who  fell  skinmfd  milk,  raid  keep  a  guard  fo  flout? 

To  keep  the  geefe;  the  thievifn  rafcals,  out, 
That,  cv'ry  morning,  us'd  to  fuck  the  *  Cows  : 

— Of  Kings  who  f  cabbages  and  carrots  plant. 
For  iuch,  as  wholefome  vegetables  want  ; 

Who  feed,  too,  poultry  for  the  people's  fake, 
Then  fend  it  .through  the  villages,  in  cartS, 
To  cheer  (how  wond'r.ous  kind  !)  the  hungry  hearts 

Of  fuch  as  only  pay  for  what  they  -take, 

The  poet  now,  quoth  Tom's  rare.  Lucubration, 
Singeth  Commercial  Treaties  ^Commutation  ; 

Taxes  on  Paint,  Pomatum,  Milk  ef  Rofes, 
Olympian  Dew,  Gloves,  Sticking-Plaifter,  Hats, 
Qimck-Med'cines  for  fit k-  Cbriflian^  and  found  Rats? 

And  all, -that  charms  our,  eyes,  or  mouths,  or  nofes. 

The  modern  Bard,?  fays  Tom,  fublimely  fings~ 

Of  virtuous,  gracious,  good,  uxorious  Kings, 
Who  love  their  wives,  fo  conffont,  from  their  heart, 

Who,  down  at  Windfor,  daily*  go  a  rhopping  ; 

Their  heads,  fo  lovely,  into  houfes  popping', 
And  doing  wonders,  in  the  haggling  art. 

And  why*-  in  God's  Name,  (hould  not  Queens  and  Kings 
Purchafe  a  comb,  or  corkfcrew,  lace  f®r  cloaks, 

Edging  for  caps,  or  tape  for  apron-ftrings, 
Or  pins  or  bobbin,  cheap  as  other  folks  ? 

Reader  !  to  make  thine  eyes,  with  wonder,  Rare", 
Farthings  are  not  beneath  the  royal  care  ! 


*  Is  it  polfible  for  this  Story  to  be  true  ?   We  would  rather 
,  give  h  as  apocrypbai. 

f  Mr.  Warton  fays  in  bis  Ode,  *.Wlo  plant  tic  C/Vr •.•#*<--- 

but    lie  alTurcdly  meant  Cabbages  and  Carrots  : the  "Fact 

^proves  it. 

• 


t       22°       ] 

Farthings  are  helplefs  children  of  a  guinea  : 
If  not  well  watch' d,,  they  travel  to  their  coft  ! 

For,  lo  !  each  copper-vifag'd  little  Ninney 
Is  very  apt  to  ftray,  and  to  be  loft* 

Extravagance  I  never  dar'd  defend  ; 

I'd  have  a  Monarch  fave  a  candle-end  ; 

Since  'tis  air  axiom  fure,  the  more  folks  fave, 

The  more,  fndifputably,  they  muft  have. 

Crown' d  heads,  of  faring  ihould  appear  examples  ; 

And  Britain  really  boafls  two  pretty  famples  I 

The  modern  Poet  fings,  quotb  Tom  again, 
Of  fweet  Excifemen,  an  obliging  train, 

"Who,  like  our  Guardian  Angels,  watch  our  houfes, 
And  add  another  civil  obligation 
That  addeth  greatly  to  our  reputation  ; 

Hug,  in  our  abfences,  our  loving  fpoufes. 

Reader  !  when  tir'd,  I'm  fond  of  taking  breath. 
Now,  as  thou  doft  admire  the  true  fublime, 
And,  confequently,  my  immortal  rhyme, 

'Tis  clear  thou  never  can'ft  defire  my  death  : 

Swans,  in  their  fongs,  mod  mufically  die  ; 
If  that's  the  cafe,  then,  Reader,  fo  might  /. 
Let  me  then  join  my  wifhes  ;  flay  my  rapture, 
And  nurfe  my  lungs,  to  ling  a  fecond  chapter. 


IN     C*0  N  T  I  N  U  A  T  I  0  N. 


'G, 


'RANT  me  an  honefl  Fame,  or  grant  me  none,* 
Says  Pope  (I  don't  know  where)  a  little  liar  ; 
Who,  if  he  prais'd  a  man,  'twas  in  a  tone 
That  made  his^Praife  like  bunches  of  Sweet-Briar, 


E  A&I 

Which,  whilft  a  pleafing  Fragrance  it  bedews, 
Pops  out  a  pretty  prickle  on  your  nofe. 

Were  fome  Folks  to  exclaim,  who  fill  a  Throne, 

*  Grant  me  arr  honeft  Fame,  or  grant  me  none  !* 
Such  Princes  were  upon  the  forlorn  hope  ; 

Soon,  very  foon,  to  Reputation,  dead. 
Their  idle  Laureats,  faith,  might  fhttt  up  (hop, 

And  bid  their  lofty  Genius  go  to ; bed. 

Mufe,  this  is  all  well  dud  ;  but,  not  t'ofFend  ye, 
I  beg  you  will  not  cultivate  digrelHon  } 

Plead  not  the  Poet's  quidlibet  audendi  ; 
For  furely,  there  are  limits  to  th'  expreffiol?* 

Then  ceafe  to  wanton  thus  in  Epifode, 

And  tell  the  world  of  Mr.  WARTON'S  Ode. 

The  modern  Poet,  Laureat  Thomas  fays* 
To  Botany's  grand  Ifland  tunes  his  lays, 

•Fix'd  for  the  Swains  and  Damfels  of  St.  Giles, 
VVhofe  knowledge,  in  the  "Hocus-Pocus  art, 
Bids  them  from  BRITAIN  fome  what  fudden  (tart. 

To  teach  to  fouthern  climes  their  nryftic  \viies  : 

Improve  the  wifdom  of  the  Common-Weal, 
And  teach  the  fimple  natives  how  to  fteal, 
The  picklock-fciences,  fo  dark,  explain, 
And  to  ingenious  murder  turn  each  brain. 

Quoth  Tom  again  ;  the  modern  Poet  fings 
Of  fweet,  good-natur'd  inofFenfive  Kings  ; 
Who,  by  a  miracle,  efcap'd  with  life  ;' 
Efcap'd  a  damfel's  mo  ft  tremendous  knife  ; 
A  knife  that  had  been  taught  by  toil  and  art, 
To  pierce  the  bowels  of  a  pie  or  tart. 

Thus,^  having  giv'n  a  full  difplay 
Of  what  our  Laureat  fays,  or  meant  to  fay  i 
U 


C      22~      ] 

I'll  beg  of  Thomas,  to  inilruft  my  ears, 

Why  in  his  verfes,  he  fhould  call 
The  knights  who  grac'd  the  high- arch'd  Hail, 
A  fet  of  *  Bears  ? 

Why  the  bold  fteel-clad  knights  of  elder  days 

Are  not  entitled  to  a  little  praife, 
Who,  for  God's  caufe,  did  palace,  houfe,  and  hut  fell 

As  well  as  Monarchs  of  the  prefent  date, 

Whofe  dear  Religion,  of  which  Poetts  prate, 
Might  lodge,  without  much  fqueezing,  in  a  nut-lhell? 

c  What,  King  hath  fmall  Religion  ?— (thou  replied)— 

*  If  G .the  Th...  thou  meaneil— Bard,  thou  lieil.' 

Hold,  Thomas— not  fo  furious 1  know  things, 

That  add  not  to  the  Piety  of  K— gs. 
I've  feen  a  K— g  at  Chapel,  I  declare, 
Yawn,  gape*  laugh,  in  the  middle  of  a  pray'r  ; 
When  inwards  his  fad  optics  ought  to  roll, 
To  view  the  dark  condition  of  his  foul  ; 
Catch  up  an  opera-glafr,  with  curious  eye, 
(Forgetting  God)  fome  Granger's  phiz  to  fpy  ; 
As  tho'  defirous  to  obferve,  if  Heav'n 
llad  chriftian  features  to  the  vifage  giv'n  ; 
Then  turn  (for  kind  communication,  keen) 
And  tell  fome  new- found  wonders  to  the  Q...n. 

*  Ah,  Peter,  Peter,'  Laurent  Thomas  cries, 

•"  Thou  haft  no  Fear  of— Kings,  before  thy  Eyes  ; 

*  Great— Little— all,  with  thee,  are  equal  jokes, 

*  And  mifthiy  Monarchs  merely  common  folks. 

*  Ah  !  wicked,  wicked,  wicked  Peter,  know' 

A>t>->if  what  ? — 'That  Monarchs  are  not  merely  Sbowj 
*•  Souls  they  poflefs,  and  on  a  glorious  Scale.' 

To  this  I  anfwer,  Thomas,  with  a  Tale. 


The  Word  Savflge,  in  the  Laureac's  Ode  for  the  New 


C        **3        ] 

A  Duke  of  Burgundy   (I  know  not  which") 
Thus  on  a  certain  time  addrefs'd  a  Poet  ; 

*  I'm  much  afraid  of  that  fame  fcribbling  Itch  ;   , 

*  You've  Wit  ;  but  pray,  be  cautious,  how  you  (how  it ; 

*  Say  nothing,  in  your  rhymes,  about  a  king  ; 

c  If  Praife---'tis  Lies— if  Blame — a  dang'rous  thing.' 

That  is,  the  Duke  believ'd,  the  king  uncivil 
Might  kick  the  fancy  Poet  to  the  Devil, 

T.  W. 
PETER,  there's  Odds  'twixt  flaring  and  fiark  mad— 

P.  P. 
Who  dares  deny  it  ?  So  there  is,  egad  ! 

T,  W. 

Thou  think'ft  no  Prince,  of  Common  Senfe  poffetW 
P.  P. 

Thomas,  thou  art  miftaken,  I  proteft  ; 
On  STANISLAUS,  the  Mufe  could  pour  her  drain, 
Who,  dying,  funk  a  Sun  upon  Lorraine  : 
Too,  like  the  parted  SUN,  with  glory  crowu'd  $ 
He  fill'd  with  Blulhes  deep  th'  Horizon  round. 
Fred'ric  the  Great,  who  dy'd  the  other  day, 
Had  for  himfelf,  indeed,  a  deal  to  fay. 

We  mud  not  touch  upon  the  King's  Belief  $ 
Becaufe  (t  fear)  he  feldom  faid  his  pray'rs  ; 

Nor  dare  we  fay,  the  Hero  was  no  Thief, 
Becaufe  he  plundered  ev'ry  Body's  Wares. 

I'm  told,  the  Emperor  is  vaftly  wife  ; 
And  hope,  that  Madame  Fa  lire  hath  noc  cold,  L^ 
Yet  in  his  difputations  with  the  Dutch, 
The  Monarch's  Oratory  was  not  much  ; 
Us 


Full  many  a  trope,  from  Bayonet  and  Drum 
He  threatened  ;  but,  behold  !  'twas,  all  a  Hum* 

Wife  are  our  gracious  Q 's  fuperb  Relations, 

The  pride  and  Envy  of  the  German  nations  ; 
People  of  Faihion,  Worfhip,  Wealth  and  State  ; 
Lo  !  what  demand  for  them,  in  Heav'n,  of  late  I 
Lo  !  with  his  knapfack,  ev'n  juft  now  departed, 
As  fine  a  Soldier,  faith,  as  ever  darted  ; 
Whom  Death  did  almoft  dread  to  lay  his  claws  on  ; 
Old  Captain — what's  his  Name  ? — *  Saxehilberghaufen  : 
For  whom  (with  zeal,  for  Folks  of  Worftrip,  burning) 
,  We  once  again  are  blackenM  up  by  mourning  ; 
To  mow,  by  glove,  cloth,  ribband,  crape  and  fan, 
A  peck  of  trouble  for  th'  old  Gentleman. 

Good-lack-a-daifie  then  !  what  dozens 

Our  tj—  hath  got,  of  Uncles,  Aunts,  and  Coufias  i 
Egad,  if  thus  thofe  folks  continue  dying, 

Each  Briton,  doom'd  to  difmal  black, 

Muft  always  bear  a  hearfe-like  back, 
And,  like  Heraclitus,  be  always  crying. 

Great  is  the  Northern  Emprefs,  I  confefs  ! 

Much  in  her  humour,  like  our  good  Queen  Befs  : 
She  keeps  her  fair  Court-Dames  from  Getting  f  drunk; 

And  all  fo  temperate  herfelf,  folks  fay, 

She  fcarcely  drinks  a  dozen  drains  a  day  ; 
And,  in  Love-matters,  is  a  Queen  of  fpunk  : 

And  when,  on  Horfe-back — lo  !  with  manly  Pride, 

This  brave  Seiniramis  doth  fit  aftride  i 

Yet  like  I  not  fuch  Woman  for  a  Wife  ; 
Such  Heroines,  in  a  matrimonial  ilrife, 


*  Croat  Uncle  to  our  mofl:  gracious  Q.  Kc  died  in  theEM» 
PFROR'S  Service. 

•j*  At  an  AlFcmbly,  fome  years  fince,  nt  Petersburg,  which 
was  hon (Hired  with  the  Emprefs*  Prefcnce,  one  of  the  Rules 
was,  '*  That  no  Lady  ihould  come  drunk  into  the  Room." 


C        225        ] 

Blight  hammer,  from  one's  tender  head,  hard  nG.es  : 
1  own  ray  delicacy  is  fo  great, 
I  cannot  in  difpute,  with  rapture,  meet 

Women,  who  look  like  Men  in  petticoats. 

Oft  in  a  learned  difpute  on  a  Cap, 

By  way  of  Anfwer?  one  might  have  a  Slap  ; 
P'rhaps  on  a  fimple  petticoat  or  gown  ; 

Nay  !  pollibly  on  Madam's  being  /://?  / 
And  really,  I  would  rather  be  knock'd  down 

By  Weight  of  Argument,  than  Weight  cf  77/7. 

I  like  riot  Dames,,  whofe  converfation  .runs 

On  battles,  -lieges,  mortars  and  great  guns  ; 
The  milder  beauties  win  my  foften'd  foul, 

Who  look  for  faihions  with  defiring  eyes  ; 
Pleas'd,  when  on  wigs  the  conventions  roll, 

Cork-rumps,  and  Merry-thoughts,  and  lover's  figfcs> 

LOVE  !  when  I  marry,  give  nie  not  an  ox  ; 

I  hate  a  Woman  like- a  Sentry-box  ; 

Nor  can  I  deem  the  DAME  a  "charming  creature, 

Whofe  hard-face  holds  an  oath  in  ev'ry  feature. 

In  Women— Angel-fweetnefs  let  rn-  fee  ; 

No  galloping  J I orfe-God -mothers,  for  me. 

I  own,  1  cannot  brook  fu.chi  manly  Belles* 

As  Mademoifelle  D'Eon,  and  Hannah  Snells. 

Yet  men  there  are,  (how  ftrange  are  Love's  decrees  Pi 

Whom  vulgar,  coarfe  Tack-Gentlev/ornen  p;e?.f?,, 

How  dift'rent,  Sylvia,  from  thy  form  fo  fair  i 

That  triumphs,  in  a  love-infpiririg  air  ; 
Superior  beaming,  ev'n  where  thoufhnds  Ihine  ; 

Thy  form  !  \vhere  ail  the  tender -graces  play 

That,  .blufhing,  leem  in  evVy  fmile  to  .lay, 
*  Behold  !  we  boaft  an  origin 'divine  f 

See  too,  the  Queen  of  France— a  Gem,  I  ween"! 
With  rev'rencfc,  let  me  hail  that  charnu^g  Queen, 
Blus  to  the  King,  and  luftre  to  be:  r»* 


[  226 

Though  Venus  gave  her 

!S  JlGraces  bld 

malleft  beauties  are  the  charms  of  Face. 

T.  \V. 
Heav'ns  !  why  ^,-^  for  virtues  rauft  you  roam  ? 

P.  P. 
Beeaufe  I  cannot  find  them,  Tom,  at  home 


Ind  llrS'.th^  a'!Tdu"d  a  throne, 

T.  W. 
Thinfft  thou  not,  Cafar  doth  the  Arts  poflefs  ? 

P.  P. 
Arts  in  Abundance  !~Yes,  Tom-yes,  Tom-yes  ! 

T.  W. 


p.  P. 

o,  Tom—no, 


r    227    j   - 

T.  W. 

What  !  not  one  bag,  to  blefs  a  child,  beftbw  ?-- 
P.  P. 


rt!7  f°i'y  !~n°'  Tom"-»°>  Tom-no  ! 
fouls,  that  avarice  enflaves, 

Uk-Llfl    ft  S™fP  their  «°foeas,  in  their  Graves  : 
Like  that  old  Greek—  a  miferable  cur, 
Who  made  hirnfelf  his  own  executor. 


A  £atrs'i  w|.th,be?  kfttens'  macji  delighted  ; 

fcne  licks  fo  lovingly  their  mouths  and  chins  : 
At  ev  ry  danger,  Lord  !  how  Puft  is  frighted  ; 

She  curls  her  back,  and  fwells  her  tail?  and  «ins  • 
Rolls  her  wild  eves,  and  claws  the  back,  of  curs" 
Wno  fmeil  too  curious  to  her  children's  furs. 

This  happens,  whilfl  her  cats  are  young,  indeed  • 

ra&s  s4^z«f  d^t  '»<*  - 

'Own,  and  mewing,  bids  them  come  and  fuck. 

No  more  (he  fports  and  pats  them,  frisks  and  purrs  • 
1  ays  with  their  little  tails,  and  licks  their  ?ursP 

fe  ^Sb^-  her  b-'effiflg  and  embraces, 
•Bits,  like  a  dirty  vixen,  in  their  faces. 

Nay,  after  making  the  poor  lambkins  fly, 
She  watches  the  dear  babes,  with  fquinting  eye  ; 
And  H  {he  fp.es  them  with  a  bit  of  meat, 
brings  on  their  property/and  fteals  their  treat  ; 
No  1,  ore  a  tender  love  ihe  fecms  to  feel  ; 
fcfi     if/  '    r"  }\e'\  raay  eat  'era  «  a  meal  ; 
C,          S  ,  °l""t!ie  jade'  fo  wond'rous  faving, 
.n.s,     Oft  !-you  now  are  at  your  own  beard-fhaving.' 


So— to  fome  K s  this  evil  doth  belong  ; 

Th'  intelligence  is  good, "I  make  no  doubt  ; 
Who  really  love  their  offspring,  when  they're  young 
But  lofe  that  fond  affection  when  they're  flout  Y 

Far  oif  they  fend  them— not  a  Sixpence  give  ; 
I  wonder,  Thomas,  where -fuch  M— — chs  live  ! 

Should  fuch  one,  Thomas,  come  acrofs  thy  way. 
And  for  thy  Flatt'ry,  offer  butts  of  fack  ; 

Say  plainly,  that  he  would  difgrace  thy  lay  ; 
And  turning  on  him  thy  Pindaric  back, 

Bid,  like  a  Porcupine,  thine  anger  brittle, 

Nor  damn  thy  precious  foul,  to  wet  thy  whittle. 


C    O    N    C    L    U    S    I    O    N. 

THINK  not,  Friend  TOM,  I  envy  thee  thy  rhyme, 

By  numbers,  I  afTure  thee,  deem'd  fublime  ; 
Or  that  thy  Laureat's  place  my  fpleeii  provokes  : 

The  KING  (good  Man  !)  and  I,  fliould  never  quarrel. 

E'en  though  his  royal  wifdom  gave  the  laurel 
To  Mr.  Tom-a-StileS,  or  John-a-Nokes. 

OJd-fafhion'd,  as  if  tiuofd  in  the  Ark, 
I  never  figh'd  for  glory's  high  degrees  ; 

This  very  inftant,  Ibouid  our  Grand  Monarque 
Say,  '  POSTER  ,*  be  my  Laureat,  if  you  pleafe  ;' 

4  No,  pleafe  your  Majetty,'  fliould  be  my  anfwer, 
With  fweeteft  diffidence  and  modeft  grace  : 

*  The  office  fuits  a  more  ingenious  man,  Sir  ; 

*  In  God's  name,  therefore,  let  him  have  the  place ; 
4  Unlike  the  Poets,  'tis  my  vaft  affliction, 
'  To  be  a  miferable  hand  at  Fiftion. 

*  But,  Sir,  I'll  find  fome  lyric  undertaker, 

*  Acroftic,  Rebus,  or  Conundrum-Maker, 
^  Who  oft  hath  rode  old  Pegafus  fo  fiery, 

*  And  won  the  fweepftakes  in  the  Lady's  Diary/' 


A  N 

APOLOGETIC    POSTSCRIPT, 

To 
ODE    UPON    ODE,' 

OR, 
A    PEEP  AT  SAINT  JAMES'. 


JK-EADER,  I  folemnly  proteft, 

I  thought,  that  I  had  work'd  up  all  my  rhyme  I 
What  ftupid  Demon  hath  my  brain  polFefs'd  ? 

I  prithee,  pardon  me  this  time. 

^Afford  thy  patience*,  through  more  Ode  ; 
"Tis  not  a  vaft  extern  of  road  ; 

Together  let  us  gallop  then  along  : 
Molt  nimbly  ihall  old  Pegafus,  my  hack,  (Hr. 

To  drop  the  image  ;  prithee,  hear  more  fbnga. 
Some  4  more  hi  ft  words  of  Mr*  Baxter* 


230 


O      D      E. 


WORLD,  flop  thy  mouth  !  I  am  refolv'd  to  rhyme;," 
I  cannot  throw  away  a  vein  fublime. 

If  I  may  take  the  liberty,  to  brag, 
I  cannot,  like  the  fellow  In  the  Bible, 
Venting  upon  his  matter  a  rank  libel, 

Conceal  my  talent,  in  a  rag, 

Kings  mud  continue  dill  to  be  my  theme  , 

Eternally  of  Kings  I  dream  ; 

As  beggars,  ev'ry  night  (we  friud  fuppofe) 

Dream  of  their  vennine,  in  th.6k  beds  $ 
Becaufe,  as  ev'ry  body  knows, 

Such  things  are  always"  running  in  their  heads* 

Befides,  were  I  to  write  of  common  folks, 
No  foul  would  buy  my  thymes  fo  drange,  and  jokes 
Then,  what  becomes  of  mutton,  beef,  and  pork  ? 
How  would  my  mafticating  mufcies  work  ? 

Indeed,  I  dare  not  fay,  they  would  be  idle  : 
But,  like  my  Pegafus*  chops,  fo  dout, 

Who  plays  and  wantons,  with  his  bridle. 
And  nobly  flings  the  foam  about. 

So  mine  would  work— c  on  what  f  my  reader  cries? 
With  a  ilretch'd  pair  of  unbelieving  eyes. 
Heav'n  help  thy  mod  un-penetradng  wit  ! 
On  a  hard  morfel— hunger' s  iron-  bit  ! 

By  all  the  rhyming  Goddeffes  and  Gods  ! 
i  Will-  I  muft  perfift  in  Odes  ; 


C        *3i       ']. 

And  not  a  pow'r  on  earth  ihall  hinder  : 
I  hear  both  *  Univerfities  exclaim, 
c  Peter,  it  is  a  glorious  road  to  fame  : 

'  Et/ge9  Poet  a  niagne  !   well  faid  Pindar  ! 

Yet  fome  approach,  with  apoftolic  face, 
And  cry,  6  O  Peter,  what  a  want  of  grace, 

6  Thus,  in  thy  rhyme,  to  roafr  a  king  !' 
I  roaft  a  King  !  by  heav'ns,  'tis  not  a  fact ; 
•I  fcorn  fiich  wicked  and  difloyal  aft  ; 

Who  dares  aflert  it,  fays  a  -lland'rous  thing, 

Hear  what  I  have  to  fay  of  kings, 

If,  un-fublime,  they  deal  in  childith  things, 

And  yield  not,  of  reform,  a  ray  of  hope  ; 
Each  mighty  Monarch  .lira It  appears  to  me 
A  roafter  of  himfelf—  Felo  dd  (e  ; 

I  only  act  as  Cook,  and  dijb  him  up. 

Reader!  another  fimile,  as  rare  ; 

•My  verfes  form  a  fort  of  bill  of  fare, 

Informing  guefls,  what  kind  of  fiefli  and  fiih 

Is  to  be  found  within  each  dilli  ; 

That  eating  people  may  nut  be  miftaken. 

And  take,  for  ortolan,  a  lump  of  bacon, 

When  eve*  I -have  heard  of  Kings, 

Who  place,  in  goflipings  and  news,  their  pride, 
And  knowing  family  concerns  ;  mean  things  ! 

Very  judicioufiy,  indeed,  I've  cry'd, 

6  I  wonder, 
4  How  their  blind  ftars  could  make  fo  grofs  a  blunder  ! 


*  The  violence  of  the  Univerfities,  on  this  occafion,  may 
probably  nrife  from  the  contempt  thrown  on  them,  by  His 
Majefty's  fending  the  Royal  children  to  Gottingen  for  educa 
tion  :  but  have  not  their  Majefttes  amply  made  it  up  to  Ox 
ford,  by  a  vifit  to  that  celebrated  feminary— and  is  not  Cam 
bridge  to  receive  the  fame  honour  ? 


C      23*      3 

&  Inftead  of  fitting  on  a  throne, 

'  In  purple,  rich  ;  of  (late  fo  full  ; 
6  They  {hould  have  had  an  apron  on  ; 

6  And,  feated  on  a  three-legg'd  (tool, 

*  Commanded,  of  dead  hair,  the  fprigs, 
4  To  do  their  duty  upon  wigs. 

*  By  fuch  mi  Hakes,  is  nature  often  foil'd  ; 
4  Such  improprieties  Ihould  never  fpring. 

6  Thus  a  fine,  chatt'ring  barber  may  be  fpoil'd, 

*  To  make  a  moil  mdiiFrent  King.' 

*  Sir  !  Sir  !  (I  hear  the  world  exclaim) 

*  At  too  high  game  you  impudently  aim  ; 
6  How  dare  you,  with  your  jokes  and  gibes, 

*  Tread,  like  a  horfe,  on  kingly  kibes  f 

Folks,  who  can't  fee  their  errors,  can't  reform  : 
No  plainer  axiom  ever  came  from  man  : 

And  'tis  a  Chriftian's  duty,  in  a  ftorm, 
To  fave  his  finking  neighbour,  if  he  can. 

Thus  /,  to  Kings,  my  Ode  of  wifdom  pen  ; 

Becaufe  your  Kings  have  fouls,  like  common  men* 

The  Bible  warrants  me  to  fpeak  the  truth  ; 

Nor,  mealy-motith'd,  my  tongue  in  filence  keep* 
Did  not  good  Nathan  tell  tha.t  bii£ki(h  youth,    „ 

David  the  King  !  that  he  ilole  Iheep  ? 

Stole  poor  Uriah's  little  fav'rite  lamb  ; 
An  ewe  it  chanc'd  to  be,  and  not  a  ram  ; 
For,  had  it  been  a  ram,  the  royal  glutton 
Had  never  meddled  with  Uriah's  mutton. 

What  .modern  Courtier,  pray,  hath  got  the  face, 

To  fay  to  Majefly,  !  O  King, 
4  At  fuch  a  time,  in  fuch  a  place, 

4  You  did  a  very  foolifh  thing?* 
What  Courtier,  not  a  foe  to  his  own  glory, 
Would  publiih,  of  his  King,  this  iimple  (loiy  ? 


233 


THE 
A  P  P  L  E  -  D  U  M  P  LINGS  AND  A  K  I  N  G. 


ONCE  on  a  rime,  a  Monarch, 'fir' d  with  hooping, 
-Whipping,  and  Ipurriiig, 
Happy  in  worrying 
A  poor,  defencelefs,  harmlefs  buck  ; 
The  horfe  and  rider,  wet  as  muck  : 
From  his  high  confequenee  and  vvifdoin,  (looping 
Enref  d,  through  curio fity,  a  cot, 
Where  fhi  a  poor<oid  woman,  with  her  pet. 

The  wrinkled,  blear-eyed,  good  old  granny, 
In  this  fame  cot,  illu-m'd  by  many  a  cranny  ; 

Had  fuiiili'd  apple-dumplings  for  her  pot. 
In  tempting  row,  the  naked  dumplings  lay  ; 
"When,  lo  !  the  Monarch,  in  his  itfua!  way, 

Like  lightning,  fpoke,  *  What's  this  1-    what'j   this - 
6  what  ?  what  T 

Then  taking  up  a  dumpling  in  his  hand* 
His  eyes,  with  admiration,  did  expand  : 

And  oft  did  Ma  jetty  the  dumpling  grapple  : 
6  'Tis  inonflrou's,  monftrous  hard,  indeed  !'  lie'cry'd. 
c  What  makes  it,  pray,  fo  hard  ?  The  dame  reply1  d, 

Low  curtfying,  '  .pleate  your  Majelly,  the  upple,' 

4  Very  aftonilhing,  indeed  !  -flrange  thing  T 
(Tirrning  the  dumpling  round,  rejom'd  the  King) 

c  Tis  moll:  extraordinary,  then,  all  this  is  ; 

6  It  beats  PinettiY  conj'ring  all  to  pieces 
V  ^ 


[        234        ] 

g  Strange,  I  Jbouhl  never  of  a  dumpling  dream  ! 

*  But,  Goody,  tell  me,    where-,    where,    where's    the 

'  feam  f 

*  Sir,  there's  no  Team  (quoth  (he)-  I  never  knew, 

*  That  folks  did  apple-dumplings  "few.'—  - 

*  No  !  cry'd  the  daring  Monarch,  with  a  grin  ; 

*  ilow,  how  the  devil,  got  the  apple  in  T 

Reader,  thou  likeft  not  my  tale  ;  look'ft  blue  ; 

Thou  art  a  courtier—  roared,  c  Lies  »  lies  !  lies  !* 

Do,  for  a  moment,  Hop  thy  cries  ; 
I  tell  thee,  roaring  infidel,  'tis  true. 

Why  fhould  it  not  be  true  ?  The  greateft  men 
May  ask  a  foolifh  queftion,  now  and  then  ; 

This  is  the  language  of  all  ages  ; 
Folly  lays  many  a  trap—  we  can't  efcape  it  : 
jVemo  (fays  fonic  one)  omnibus  boris  fapit  ; 

Then  why  not  Kings,  like  Me,  and  other  fag 


es 


Far  from  defpifing  Kings,  I  like  the  breed, 

Provided,  king-like  they  behave  : 
Kings  are  an  inftrumein,  we  need, 

Juft  as  we  razors  want  —  to  fhave  ; 
To  keep  the  StfiteViace  fmooth  ;  give  it  an-  air; 
Like  my  Lord  North's—  fo  jolly,  round,  and  fair. 

My  fenfe  of  Kings  tho'  freely  I  impart  ; 

1  bate  not  Royalty—  heav'n  knows  my  heart  ; 

Princes,  and  PrincefTes  I  like,  fo  loyal  ; 

Great  George's  children  are  my  great  delight  : 
The  fwect  Augufla,  and  fweet  Princefs-iloyrJ, 

Obtain  my  love  by  day,  and  pray'rs  by  night, 

Yes  !  I  like  Kings  ;  and  oft  look  back,  with  pride, 
Upon  the  Edwards,  Harrys,  of  our  ifie  ; 

Great  fouls  !  in  virtue,  as  in  valour,  try'd  ! 
Whole  aftions  bid  the  cheeks  of  Britons  fmile. 


Mufe,  let  us  . 

And  take  a  peep  into  Fate's  book. 


[       235       3 

Behold  !  the  fceptre  young  AUGUSTUS  fways  ! 

I  hear  the  mingled  voice  of  millions  rife  ; 

I  fee,  up-raisM  to  heav'n,  their  ardent  eyes, 
That,  for  their  Monarch,  ask  a  length  of  days. 

Bright  in  the  brighteft  annals  of  renown, 
Behold  fair  Fame  his  youthful  temples  crown. 

With  laurels  of  unfading  bloom  ! 
Behold  Dominion  fwell,  beneath  his  care, 
And  Genius,  rifing  from  a  dark  dcfpair, 

His  long-extinguifhM  fires  relume  ! 

Such  are  the  Kings,  that  fuit  my  tafte,  I  own ; 

Not  thofe  where  all  the  Jittleneffcs  join  ; 
Whofe  fouls  ihould  ftart,  to* find  their  tot  a  throne^ 

Avid  bluib,  to  ftiow  their  nofes  on  a  coin. 

Reader— for  fear  of  wicked  applications — 
I  now  allude  to  kings  of  foreign  nations. 

Poets  (fo  un-impeach'd  tradition  fays) 
The  fole  hiftorians  were,  of  ancient  days, 

Who  help'd  their  heroes,  fame's  high  hill  to  clamber  5 
Penning  their  glorious  afts,  in  language  itrong  \ 
And  thus  pre'erving,  by  immortal  fong, 

Their  names,  amidfl  their  tuneful  amber. 

What  am  /doing?  Lord  !  the  very  fame  ; 

Preferving  many  a  deed,  deferring,"  Fame, 
Which  that  old,  lean,  devouring  (hark,  calFd  Time,- 

Would,  without  ceremony,  eat  ; 

In  my  opinion,  far  too  rich  a  treat  ; 
I  therefore  merit  ftatues,  for  my  rhyme. 

6  All  this  is  laudable  (ji  Quaker  cries) 

'  But  let  grave  Wifdom  all  thy  verfes  rule  : 

€  Put  out  thy  Irony's  two  fquinting  eyes  ; 
6  Defpife  thy  grinning  monkey,  Ridicule,' 

What!  flight  my  fportive  monkey,  Ridicule,-/ 
Who  afts,  like  birch  on  boys  at  fchool, 
Vs 


[        =36        3 

Neglecting  leflbns— truant,  perhaps,  whole  .weeks. K 
My  Ridicule,  wkh  humour  fraught,  and  wit, 
Is  that  fatirie  friend,  a  gouty  fit, 

"Which  .bites  men  into  health  and  rofy  cheeks. 

A  moral  Mercury,  that  clennfetb  fouls, 
Of  ills,  that  with  them  play  the  devil  ,• 

Like  Mercury,  that  much  the  pow'r  controals 
Of  prefects,  gain'd  from  ladies  over-civil. 

Pvcnder,  I'll  brag  a  little,  if  you  pleafe  ; 

The  ancients  did  fo  ;  therefore,  why  not  I  ? 
Lo  !  for  my  wond'rous  cures,  I  ask  no  fees, 

Whilft  ot-h-er  Doftors  let  their  patients  die  ; 
That  is,  fuch  patients  as  can't  pay  for  cure  $ 

A  very  felfi ih,  wicked  thing.  Fin  Hire. 

Now,  though  Fin  fou!-plr$cian  to  the  King, 
-I  never  begg'd  of  him  the  frnalleft  thing, 

For  all  the  threfhing  of  my  virtuous  brains  : 
N-;y,  were  I  my  poor  pocket's  flare  t'impart, 
So  \vell  I  knov/  my  nml  patient's  heart  ; 

He  would  not  give  me. two  pence,  for  my  pains* 

But,  hark  !  folks  fay,  the  King  is  very  mad  } 
The  news,  if  true,  indeed,  were  very  fad, 

And  far  too  ferions  an  affair,  to  mock  it. 
Yet  how  can  this  a^rce  with  what  I've  heard, 
That  fo  much,  by  him,  arc  my  rhymes  rever'd — 

lie  goes  a  huntintr.  with  them  in  his  pocket  : 

And  when  thrown  out  ;  which  often  is  the  cafe, 
In  bacon-hunting,  or  of  bucks  the  race  ; 

My  verfe  fo  much  his  Maiefty  bev\  ircbes, 
That  out  he  pulls  my  honor' d  Odes, 
And  reads  them,  on  the  turn-pike  roads-; 

Now  under  trees  and  hedges— now  in  ditches," 

Hark  !  with  aftoni&ynenr,.  a  found  I  hear. 
That  ftrikes  tremendous  on  nry  ear.; 


C        237        T 

It  fays,  great  Arden,  commonly  called  Pepper, 
Of  mighty  George's  thunderbolts  the  keeper. 
Tuft  like  of  Jupiter  the  famous  eagle, 
Is  order' d  out,  to  hunt  me  like  a  beagle. 

But,  eagle  Pepper,  gi^e  my  love 
Unto  thy  lofty  mailer,  Mr.  Jove  ; 
And  ask,  how  it  can  fquare  with  his  religion, 
To  bid  thee,  without  mercy,  fall  on, 
With  thy  fttort  fturdy  beak,  and  iron  talon, 
A  pretty,  little,  harmlefs  cooing  pigeon  ? 

By  Heav'ns  !  I  disbelieve  the  fa  ft'  ;- 
A  Monarch  cannot  fo^un wifely  act. 

Suppofe,  that  Kings,  fo  rich,  are  always  mumping, 
Praying  and  preifing  Ministers,  for  money  ; 

Bidding  them,  on  our  hive  (poor  bees  !)  be  th Limping- 
Trying  to  lhake  out  all  our  honey  ; 

A  thing  that,  oft  hath  happen' d  in  our  iOe  'I 

Pray,  {han't  we  be  allow' d  to  fmile  ? 

To  cut  a  joke,  or  epigram  contrive, 

By  way  of  folace,  for  our  plunder' d  hive  ? 

A  King  of  France,  (I've  loft  the  Monarch's  name) 
Who  avaricious,  got  himfelf  bad  fame, 
By  tnoft  unmannerly  and  thieviih  plunges 
Into  his  fubjefts  purfes,   • 
A  deep  manoeuvre,  that  obtain'd  their  curfes, 
Becaufe  it  treated  gentlefolks,  like  fyiwges. 

To  (how, 'how  much  they  relinYd  not  fnch  fqueezing,' 
Such  goods  and  chattel-feizing, 

They  publilh'd  libels,-  to  difplay  their  hate. 
To  comfort,  in  fome  fort,  their  fouls, 
For  fuch  a  number  of  large  holes, 

Ate,  by  this  Royal  Rat,  in  each  efface.    ; 

The  PREMIER.  op?d  his  gullet,  like  a  fhark, 
T.o  Iv^ar  fuch  fa  tires  on  the  Grand  Monarque, 

V3 


And  roar'd,  '  Meffours,  you  Toon  (kill  fee! 

*  My  cridcifm  upon  your  ballads, 

'  Nor,  to  your  tafte,  fo  fweet  as  frogs  and  fallads  ^ 
'  A  Ih-icture  critical,  yclep'd  Baftiie  !' 

But  f-rfl  he  told  the  tidings  to  the  King, 

Then  fwore,  par.Dieu^  that  he  would  "quickly  bring,  .. 

*  Unto  the  grinding-ftone,  their  nofes  down  ; 
No,  not  a  foul  of  'em  Ihould  ever  thrive  ; 
He'd  ilay  them,  like  St.  BARTLEMEW,  alive  ; 

Villains  I  for  daring  to  infult  the  crown. 

7  ho  Monarch  heard  Monfieur.le  PREMIER  out, 
And,  firming  on  his  loyalty  fo  flout, 

Reply'd— 4  Monfieur  le  PREMIER,  you  are  wrong: 
6  Don't  of  the  pleafure  let  them  be  debarred  ; 
6  You  know,  how  we  have  ferv'd  'e-m-  ;  faith!  'tis  hard, 
6  They  ihouid  not  for  their  money  hare  a  fong* 

OVID,  fweet  frory-teller  of  old  times, 

Unluckily  tranfported  for  his  rhymes, 
Addrefs'd  his  book,  before  he  bade  it  walk  ^ 

Therefore  my  Worfnip,  and  my  Ode,  - 

In  imitation  of  fuch  claflic  mode, 
Mufij  like  two  Indian  nations,  have  a  Talk. 

6  Dear  Ode!    wliofe  verfe  the  true  fublimc  affords, 
«  Go,  vint  Kin.'js,  Queens,  Parafite?,  and  Lords  ; 

*  And  if  thy  mode  ft  beauties  they  adore, 

*' Inform  them,  they  (hall  fpecclily  have  more.'* 

But  poffibly  a  mighty  King  may  fay, 

*  Ode  !  Ode  !    What  ?   What  ?   1   hate  your  rhyme  ha 

ranguing  ; 

c  Fd  rather  hear  a  jack-afs  bray: 
&  I  never  knew  a  poet  worth  the  hanging. 

M  hate,  abhor  them  ;  but  I'll  clip  their  wings  : 
<  I'll  teach  the  fnicy  knaves  to  laugh  at  Kings  ; 
1  Yes,  yes  t'ie  rhyming  rogues  their  f>ig,viha!l  rue, 
c  A  ragged,  bo'd-fac'd.  baiiad-iingihg  crew. 


Yes,  yeSf  the  poets  fhall  my  pow'r  confefs  ; 
I'll  maul  lim  fpawiiing  devil,  calfd  the  Prefs* 


If  furious,  thus,  exclr.ims  a  King:of  glory, 
Tell  him,  0  gentle  Mufe,  this  pithy  (lory  : 

Canute  was  by  bis  nobles  taught,  to  fancy, 
That,  by  a  kind  of  royal  necromancy? 

He  hud  the  pow'r,  old  Ocean  to  controul  ; 
Down  ruuYd  the  Royal  Dane  upon  the  ftrand., 
And  ifiii'd,   like  a  Solomon,  command  ; 
Poor  foul! 

*•  Go  back,  ye  waves,  ye  -bluff  ring  rogues!  (^quothbe) 
*  Touch  not  your  Lord  and  Mailer,  Sea  !--- 

'  For,  by  my  po.w'r  almighty,  if  you  do  ;' 
Then  flaring  vengeance,—  out  he  held  a  Hick, 
Vowing  to  drive  old  Ocean  to  old  Nick, 

Should  he  tv'n  wet  the  latchet  of  his  (hoe, 

The  Sea  retir'd  ;  the  Monarch  fierce  rufh'd  on, 
And  look'd,  as  if  he\l  drive  him  from  the  land  ; 

But  SEA,  not  caring  to  be  put  upon, 
Miide,  for  a  moment,  a  bold  (land  : 

Not  only  make  a  ftand  did  Mr.  Ocean, 
But  to  his  honeft  waves  he  made  a  m6tion, 

And  bid  them  pve  the  King  a  hearty  trimming  ; 
The  orders  feeiuM  a  deal  the  waves  to  tickle  : 
For  foon  tho-y  put  his  Maicuy  hv  pickle  ; 

And  fet  his  Royalties,  like  geefe,  a  fwimming. 

All  hands  aloft,  \vith  one  tremendous  roar  ; 
Soon  did  they  make  him  \viih  himfelf  on  fhore-; 

His  head  and  ears  moil  handfomely  they  dous\l  ; 
Juft  like  a  porpoife,  with  one  gerfral  fnoiu, 
The  waves  fo  tinribicd  the  poor  King  about  ;' 

No  Anabaptiil  e'er  was  half  fo  fous'd.  ^ 


At  length  to  land  lie  crawl'd,  a  half-drown'd 
Indeed^  more  like  a  crab,  than  like  a  King  ; 

And  found  his  Courtiers  making" rueful  faces. 
But  what  laid  Canine  to  the  Lords  and  Gentry, 
Who  hafd  him  from  the  water,  on  his  entry, 

All  trembling  for  their  lives  or  places  ? 

*  My  Lords,  and  Gentlemen,  by  your  advice, 

c  I've  had,  with  Mr.  SEA,  a  pretty  buftle  ; 

*  My  treatment  from  my  foe  not  over-nice, 

c  Juft  made  a  jeft  for  ev'ry  ihrimp  and  mufcle  s 
6  A  pretty  trick' for  one  of  my  dominion  ! 
6  My  Lords,  I  thank  you  for  your  great  opinion. 

*  You'll  fay,  perhaps,  Tve  loft  one  game, 

c  And  bid  me  try  another— for  the  rubber— 

*  Permit  me  to  inform  you  all,  with  (hame, 

>  That  you're  a  fet  of  knaves,  .and  Frn  a  lubber.1  • 

Such  is  the  (lory,  my  dear  Ode, 
Which  thou  wilt  bear— a  facred  load ! 

Yet,  much  I  fear,  'twill  be  'of  no  great  life  ; 
(Kings  are,  in  general,  obflinate  as  mules  ; 
Thofe  who  furround  them,  mofrly  rogues  and  fools) 

And  therefore  can  no  benefit  produce. 

Yet  (lories,  fentences,  and  golden  rules, 
Undoubtedly  were  made  for  rogues  and  fools  ; 

But  this  unluckily  the  fi  triple  fa  ft  is  : 
Thofe  rogues  and  fools  do  nothing  but  adimre$ 
And  all  ib  dov'lith  nioJefi,  don't  defire 

The  glory  of  reducing  them  \&$rftftic5*.. 


INSTRUCTIONS, 

TO      A. 

CELEBRATED     LAUREAT; 

A  L  I  A  S 

THE  PROGRESS  OF  CURIOSITY  ; 

ALIAS 

A    B  I  R  T  H  -  D  A  Y    ODE; 

ALIAS 

Mr.    J7H1TB  R  EAD'S    B  RE  CHOUSE, 

Sic  tran/it  Gloria  Tftnndi  I  .....  OLD  SUN- 


From  Hoitfj  ^/Buckingham,  in  grand  Parade, 

To  Whltbrer.d's  Bre-TK-bouft  mov'd  the  Cavalcads.i 


Tins      A    R    G    U    M    E    N    T. 

'"loyalty.      He  fufpeftetb  Mr.  War  ton  of  joking. 

J.  menietb  the  Poet  Laureat.  Peter  differ eth  in  opinion  from  Mr. 
Warton.  Taketh  up  the  cudgels  for  KING  EDWARD,  KING  HAPvRY 
V.  and  QUEEN  BESS.  Feats  on  Btickbefrffc  and  Wimbledon^  per 
formed  by  our  mofl  gracious  Sovereign.  King  CHARLES  II.  half- 
damned  by  PETER,  yet  praifedfyr  keeping,  company  with  gentlemen. 
PETER  praif&th  himfelf.  PETER  reproved  by  Mr.  WARTON.  De- 
fir  etb  Mr.  WARTON'S  prayers.  A  fine  Jimile.  PETER  ftlll  fnfpeft- 
9th  tbe  Laureat  of  ironical  dealings.  PETER  expostulate  tb  with 
Mr.  WARTON.  Mr.  WARTON  replietb.  Peter  adminijteretb 
bold  advice.  Wittily  call etb  death  and  phyficians  poachers.  Praif- 
ctb  ibe  king  for  paternal  tendernefs.  Peter  maketb  a  natural  (i~ 
mi  e.  Peter  furthermore  telleth  THOMAS  WARTON,  what  to  fay 9 
Peter  givttb  a  beautiful  example  of  Ods  'writing. 

THE    CONTENTS    OF    THE    ODE. 

HIS  Majefty's  love  for  the  arts  and  fcienccs,  even  in  quadru 
peds.  His  rcfolution  to  know  the  hiftory  of  brewing  beer, 
BILLY  RAMUS  fent  ambaflador  to  Chifwell-Street.  Interview 
between  MeiTrs.  Ramus  and  Whitbread.  Mr.  Whi thread's  bow 
and  compliments' to  his  Majclfy.  Mr.  Ramus'  return  from  his 
embafly.  Mr.  Whitbread's  terrors  defcribed  to  Majefty,  by 
Mr.  Ramus.  The  King's  pleafure  thereat.  Defcription  of  peo 
ple  of  worfiiip.  Account  of  the  Whitbread  preparation.  The 
royal  cavalcade  to  Chifwell-Street.  The  arrival  at  the  brew- 
houfe.  Great-joy  of  Mr.  Whitbread.  His  Majefty's  nod,  the 
Queen's  dip.  r.nd  a  number  cf  qucftions.  A  WeiMndia  ftmih. 
The  marvellipgs  of  the  draymen  defcribed.  His  Maiefty'peep- 
eth  into  a  pump.  Beautifully  compared  to  a  magpie  peeping 
into  a  marrow- bone.  The  minute  curiofity  of  the  King.  Mr. 
Whitbread  endeavoureth  to  furprife  Majefty.  His  Majefty 
puxzleth  Mr.  Whitbread.  Mr.  Whitbread's  horfe  expreffeth 
xvonder.  Aifo  Mr.  Whitbread's  dog.  His  Majefty  maketlr 
laudable  .enquiry  about,  porter.  Again  puzzleth  Mr.  Whit 
bread.  The  king  noteth  notable  things.  Profound  Queftions 
propofed  by  Majefty..  As  profoundly  anfwered  by  Mr.  Whit 
bread.  Majefty  in  a  miftake.  Correfted  by  the  brewer.  A 
nofe  Jtmile.  Majefty's  admiration  of  the  bell..  Good  manners 
of  the  bell.  Fine  appearance  of  ivlr.  Whitbread's  pigs.  Ma 
jefty  propofeth  queilions,  but  benevolently  waiteth  not  for 
anfwers.  Peter  telleth  the  duty  of  Kings.  Difcovereth  one  of 
his  flirew'd  maxims.  Sublime-  Jtmile  of  a  water-fpout  and  a 
king.  The  great  ufe  of  asking  queftions.  The  habitation  of 
Truth.  The  collation.  The  wonders  performed  by  the  royal 
vifitors.  Majelty  propofeth  to  take  leave.  Oifereth  knight 
hood  to  Mr.  Whitbread.  Mr.  Whitbrcad's  ob.'cclions.  The 
King  runneth  a  rig  on  his  hoft.  Mr.  Whitbread  thanketh  Ma 
jefty.  Mi-fs  Whitbread  curtfieth.  The  Queen  dippcth.  The 
Cavalcade  departeth. 

Peter  triumpheth.  AdmoniflTieth  the  Laureat.  Peter  croivctb* 
ever  the  Laureat.  Difcovereth  deep  knowledge  of  Kings,  and 
furgeons,  and  men  who  have  loft  their  legs.  Peter  reafoncth, 
Vaunteth.  Even  infulteth  the  Laureat.  Peter  proclaimed!  his 
peaceable  difpofition.  'Praifeth  Majefty,  and  concludcth  with 
U  prayer  for  cttn'ouf  KING*. 


C        343        ] 


INSTRUCTIONS,  &c. 


T< 


CM,  foon  as  e'er  tliou  ftrik'ft  thy  goldzn  lyre, 
'Thy  brother  Peter's  mnfe  is  all  on  lire, 

To  fin g  of  Kings  and  Queens,  and  fiich  rare  folk* 
Yet  'midrt  thy  heap  of  compliments  fo  fine, 
Say,  may  we  venture  to  believe,  a  line  ? 

You  Oxford  wits  mo  ft  dearly  love  a  joke. 

Son  of  the  Nine,  thou  write  ft  well  on  nougbt  ; 
Thy  th unerring  ftanza,  and "its  pompous  thought, 

I  think,  m uft  put  a  dog  into  a  laugh  : 
Edward,  and  Harry,, were  much  braver  men, 
Than  this  new-ehriueiiM  hero  of  thy  pen  ; 

Yes,  laurelL'd  Ode-man,  braver  far,  by  half. 

Though  on  Blackheath,  and  Wimbledon's,  wide  plain? 
George  keeps  his  hat  off,  in  a  Ihow'r  of  rain  ^ 
-Sees  fwords,  and  bayonets,  without  a  dread  ; 
Nor  at  a  volley  winks,  nor  ducks  his  head  : 

Although,  at  grand  reviews,  he  feems*,fo  bleft, 
And  leaves,  at  fix  o'clock,  his  downy  neft. 
Dead  to  the  charms  of  blanket,  wife,  or  bolflcrs  ; 
Unlike  his  officers,  who  fond  of  cramming, 
And,  at  reviews,  afraid  of  third  and  famine, 
"  With  bread  and  ckecfe,  and  brandy,  fill  their  holflcrs, 


C  24+  ] 

"Sure,  Tom,  we'fhould  do  juftice  to  Queen  Befs: 
His  prefent  Majefty,  whom  Heav'n  long  btefs 
With  wifdom,  wit,  and  arts  of  choiceft  quality, 
Will  never  get,  I  fear,  fb  fine  a  niche, 
As  thnt  old  queen,  though  often  calFd  old  b--ch, 
In  'Fame's  coloffal  Koufe  of  immortality. 

As  for  John  Dryden's  Charles  «  that  King 

Indeed  was  never  any  mighty  thing  ; 

lie  merited  few  honours  from. the  pen; 
And  yet  he  was  a  dev'lifh  hearty  fellow, 
Enjoy'd  his  girl  and  bottle— and  got  mellow  $ 

And,  mintf  !  kept  company  with  Gentkr.un. 

For  (like  fome  kings)  in  hobby  grooms, 
Knights  of  the  manger,  curry-combs,  and  brooms. 
Loll  to  all  glory.  Charles  did  not  delight  ; 
Nor  jok'd  by  day  with  pages,  fervant-mrdds, 
Large,  red-poli'd,  blowzy,  hard,  two-handed  jades* 
Indeed  I  know  not,  what  Charles  did  by  night. 

Reader,,  I  am  of  candor  a  great  lover., 
In  (hort,  Fin  candor's  felf  all  over  ; 
Sweet  as  a  eandy'd  cake,  from  top  to  toe  ; 

Make  it  a  rule,  that  Virtue  {hall  be  pmis'd; 

And  humble  merit  from  her  bum  be  rais'd. 
What  dunked  thou  of  Peter  now  ? 

Thou  cried,  c  Oh!  how  falfe  !  behold  thy  King, 
6  Of  whom  thou  fcarcely  fay' ft  a  handfome  thing  ; 
6  That  King  hath  virtues,  that  iliould  make  thee  ftar^." 

Is  it  fo  ?  then  the  fin's  in  me  ; 

*Tis  my  vile  optics,  that  can't  fee  ; 
Then  pray  for.  them,  when  next  thou -lay 'ft  a  pray'r, 

But  pVhaps,  aloft  oil  his  imperial  throne, 
(\So  diilant,  O  ye  gods  !  from  ev'ry  one) 
The  royal  virtues  are  like  many  a  ftar,  * 
From  this  our  pigmy  fy Hem  rather  far  ; 

*  Such  w.is  the  fublimc  opinion  of  the  Dutcrh  aftrononicr 
Huygeus. 


Whofe  light,  though  flying  ever  fince  creation. 
Hath  not  yet  pitch'd  upon  our  nation. 

Then  may  the  royal  ray  be  foon  cxplor'd — 

And,  Thomas,  if  thouTt  fwear,  thou  art  not  humming^ 

Til  take  my  fpying-glafs,  and  bring  thee  word. 
The  inflant  I  behold  it  coming. 

But,  Thomas  Wafton,  without  joking, 

Art  thou,  or  art  thou  not,  thy  fov'reign  fmoking  ? 

How  can'ft  thou  ferioufly  declare, 

That  George  the  Third 
With  Creify's  Edward  can  compare, 

Or  Harry  ?-— 'tis  too  bad,  upon  my  word. 
George  is  a  clever  King,  1  needs  mud  own. 
And  cuts  a  jolly  figure  on  the  throne. 

Now  thou  exclaim'ft,  '  G-d  rot  it,  Peter,  pray, 
4  What  to  the  devil  lliall  I  ling  or  fay  ?' 
I'll  tell  thee  what  to  (ay,  O  tuneful  Tom- 
Sing,  how  a  monarch,  when  his  foil  was  dying, 
His  gracious  eyes  and  ears  was  edifying, 
By  Abbey  company,  and  kettle-drum  : 
Leaving  that  fon  to  death  and  the  phyfician, 
Between  two  fires— a  forlorn-hope  condition  ;  , 

Two  poachers,  who  make  man  their  game, 
And,  fpecial  markfmen  !  feldom  mifs  their  aim. 

Say,  though  the  Monarch  did  not  fee  his  fon, 
He  kept  aloof,  through  fatherly  affeftion— 

Determin'd,  nothing  fhould  be  done, 
To  bring  on  ufelefs  tears  and  difmal  recollection.- 

For  what  can  tears  avail,  and  piteous  fighs  ? 
Death  heeds  not  howls,  nor  dripping  eyes  : 
And  what  are  fighs  and  tears,  but  wind  and  water* 
That  ftiow  the  leakinefs  of  feeble  nature ! — 
W 


C        M<5        ] 

(Reader,  thou'lt  with  my  ftmile  not  quarrel)--- 
Like  air  and  any  fort  of  drink, 
Whizzing  and  oozing  through  each  chink, 

That  proves  the  weaknefs  of  the  barrel. 

Say— for  the  PRINCE,  when  wet  was  ev'ry  eye, 
Aiid  thoiifands  pour'd  to"  heav'n  the  pitying  figh 

Devout  ; 

Say,  how  a  King,  unable  to  diffemble. 
Order' d  the  Siddons  to  his  houfe,  and  Kemble, 

To  fpout  : 

Gave  them  ice-creams,  and  wines,  fo  dear  ! 
Who  ne'er  could  get,  till  then,  a  thimbleful  of  beer- 

For  which  they've  thank'd  the  author  of  this  metre, 
Videlicet^  the  moral-mender,  PETER, 
Who,  in  his  ODE  on  ODE,  did  dare  exclaim, 
And  call  fuch  royal  avarice,  a  mame. 

Say— but  I'll  teach  thee,  how  to  fay  an  Ode— 
Thus  ihall  thy  labours  vifit  Fame's  abode, 
In  company  with  my  immortal  lay — 
And  look,  Tom— thus  I  fire  away.— 


B  I  R  T  II  -  D  A  Y     ODE. 


HIS  day,  this  very  day,  gave  birth, 
Not  to  the  bright  eft  monarch  upon  earth, — 
Becaufe  there  are  fome  brighter,  and  as  big  ; 

Who  love  the  arts,  that  man  exalt  to  heav'n  -; 

George  loves  them  Hkewife,  when  they're  giv'n 
To  fouf-legg'd  gentry,  chriften'd  dog  and  pig  }* 


*  The  dancing  dogs,  and  wife  pig,  have  formed  a  conflder- 
able  psrt  of  the  royal  amufement, 


C        =47       ] 

Whofe  a<5ts,  in  this  our  unenlighten'd  nation, 
Have  much  improv'd  the  Britifti  education. 

Full  of  the  art  of  brewing  beer, 

The-  Monarch  heard  of  Mr.  Whitbread's  fame. 
Quoth  he  one  day  unto  the  Queen,  '  My  dear, 

*  Whitbread  hath  got  a  marvellous  great  name ; 

*  Shame,  lhame,  we  have  not  yet  his  brew-houfe  feen.'— 
Thus  faid  the  KING  unto  the  QUESN. 

Red  hot  with  novelty's  delightful  rage, 

To  Mr.  Whitbread,  forth  he  fent  a  page, 

To  fay,  that  MAJESTY  propos'd  to  view, 
With  third  of 'knowledge  deep  inflam'd, 
His  vats,  and  tubs,  and  hops,  and  hogfbeads  fam'tl, 

And  learn  the  noble  fecret,  how  to  brew. 

'A 

Of  fuch  unthought-of  honour,  proud, 
Mod  lowly  Mr.  Whitbread  bovv'd  ; 
So  humbly— (fo  the  humble  ftory  goes,) 
He  touch' d  ev'n  terra  firm  a  with  his  nofe  ; 
Then  faid  unto  the  page,  bight  Billy  Ramus, 

*  Happy  are  we,  that  our  great  KING  Ihould  name  us, 

*  As  worthy,  unto  Majefty  to  fliew, 

*  How  very  dext'roufly  we  brew.' 

Away  fprang  Billy  Ramus,  quick  as  thought  : 
To  Majefty  the  welcome  tidings  brought  ; 

Then  told,  how  Whitbread  ftar'd  like  any  flake, 
And  trembled— then  the  civil  things  he  (aid- 
On  which  the  King  did  fmile,  and  nod  his  head  4 

For  Monarchs  love  to  fee  their  fubjefts  quake. 

Such  horrors  unto  Kings  mod  pleafant  are, 

Proclaiming  rev'rence  and  humility — 
High  thoughts,  too,  all  thcfe  fhaking  fits  declare^ 

Of  kingly  grandeur  and  great  capability  1 

People  of  worlhip,  wealth,  and  birth, 
Look  on  the  humbler  fons  of  earth, 
Ws 


t    =48    1 

Indeed  in  a  mod  humble  light,  God  knows  I 
High  ftations  are  like  Dover's  tow'ring  cliffs, 
Where  {hips  below  appear  like  little  skiffs  ; 

The  people,  walking  on  the  flrand,  like  crows> 

MUSE,  fing  the  ftir,  that  Mr.  Whitbread  made, 
Poor  gentleman,  mo  ft  terribly  afraid, 

Fie  ihould  not  charm  enough  his  guefts  divine. 
His  maids  had  all  new  aprons,  gowns,  and  fmocks, 
And  lo  !  two  hundred  pounds  were  fpent  in  frocks, 

To  make  th'  apprentices  and  draymen  fine  : 

Bufy,  as  horfes,  in  a  field  of  clover, 

Dogs,  cats,  and  chairs,  and  ftools  were  tumbled  over, 

Amidft.  the  Whitbread-rout  of  preparation, 

To  treat  the  lofty  Ruler  of  the  nation. 

Now  raov'd  King,  Queen,  and  Princeffes  fo  grand, 
"IV)  vifit  tl^  firfl  brewer  in  the  land — 
Who  fometime  drank  his  beer,  and  munch'd  his  meat, 
In  a  fnug  corner,  chrilten'd  Chifwell-ftreet. 

Lord  Aylesbury,  and  Denbigh's  Lord  atfo, 

His  Grace,  the  Duke  of  Montague, 
With  Lady  Harcourt,  join'd  the  raree-fhow, 

And  iix\l  all  Smithfield's  marv'ling  eyes — 
For  lo  !  a  greater  fhovv  ne'er  grac'd  thofe  quarters, 
Since  Mary  roailed,  juft  like  crabs,  the  martyrs. 

Arrived,  the  King  broad  grinn'd,  and  gave  a  noc^ 
To  Mr.  Whitbread,  who- — had  GOD 

Come  with  his  angels,  to  behold  his  beer  ; 
With  more  refpeft  he  never  could  have  met— 
Indeed  the  man  was  in  a  fweat  ; 

So  much  the  Brewer  did  the  King  revere  ! 

Her  Mai c fly  contrived  to  make  a  dip — 
Light  as  a  feather  :  then  the  King  did  skip, 
And  ask'd  a  thoufand -.queftions,  with  a  laugh, 
Before  poor  V/hitbread  well  could  anfvyer  half. 


C      *4*      3 

Reader!  my  Ode  ftould  have  a  fimile  — 
Well  !  in  Jamaica,  on  a  tam'rind  tree, 

Five  hundred  parrots,  gabbling  juft  like  Jews, 
I  faw— fuch  noife  the  feather' d  imps  did  make, 
As  made  my  pericranium  ake— 

Asking  and  telling  parrot-news  : 

Thus  was  the  brew-houfe  filPd  with  gabbling  H-. 

Whilfl  draymen,  and  the  brewer's  boys, 

Did  eat  the  queftions,  which  the  King  did  ask. 
In  difFrent  parties,  were  they  ilaring  feen, 
Wond'ring,  to  think  they  faw  a  King  and  Queen  ; 

Behind  a  tub  were  foine,  and  forae  behind  a  cask. 

Some  draymen  forc\i  themfelves,  (a  pretty  luncheon) 

Into  the  mouths  of  many  a  gaping  puncheon  ; 

And  through  the  bung-hole  wink'd,  with  curious  eye, 

To  view,  and  be  aflur'd,  what  fort  of  things. 

Were  Princeffes,  and  Queens,  and  Kings  ; 
For  whofe  moft  lofty  ftation  thoufands  figh  ! 
And  lo  !  of  all  the  gaping  puncheon-clan, 
Few  were  the  mouths,  that  had  not  got  a  man  ! 

Now  Majefty  into  a  pump  fo  deep, 
Did,  with  an  op'ra-glafs  of  Dolland,  peep, 
Examining  with  care  each  wond'rous  matter. 
That  brought  up  water- 
Thus  have  I  feen  a  magpie,  in  the  ftreet,  . 
A  chatt'ring  bird,  we  often  meet, 
A  bird,  for  curiofity,  well  known, 

With  head  awry, 

And  cunning  eye, 
Peep  knowingly  into  a  marrow-bone. 

And  now  his  curious  M y  did  Hoop, 

To  count  the  nails  on  ev'ry  hoop  : 

And  lo  !  no  fingle  thing  came"  in  his  way, 

That,  full  of  deep  refearch,  he  did  ;;oM- 


E     250     j 

'What's  this  ?  ha?,  has?  what's  that?  what's  this?  what's 

6  that  ?' 

So  quick  the  words,  too,  when  he  deign'  d  to  fpeak, 
As  if  each  fy  liable  would  break  its  neck. 


Thus,  to  the  world  of  great,  whiifl  others 
Our  SOVEREIGN  peeps  into  the  world  of  fmall  : 
Thus  microfcopic  geniufes  explore 

Things,  that  too  oft  provoke  the  public  fcorn  : 
Yet  fweil  of  ufeftil  knowledges  the  (lore, 

13  y  finding  fyftems  in  a  pepper-corn. 

Now  Mr.  Whitbread,  ferious,  did  declare, 
To  make  the  Majefty  of  England  flare, 
That  he  had  butts  enough,  he  knew, 
Piac'd  fide  by  fide,  would  reach  along  to  Kcw^ 

On  which  the  KING,  with  wonder,  fwiftly  cry'd, 
*  What  ?  if  they  reach  to  Kew  then,  fide  by  fide, 

<-  What  would  they  do,  plac'd  end  to  end  f 
To  whom,  with  knitted,  calculating  brow, 
The  Man  of  Beer  mod  folemnly  did  vow, 

Almoft  to  Windfor,  that  they  would  extend  ; 
On  which  the  King,  with  wond'ring  mien, 
Repeated  it  unto  the  wond'ring  Queen  : 

On  which,  quick  turning  round  his  halter'd  head, 
The  brewer's  horfe,  with  face  aftoniuYd,  neigh  M  ; 
The  brewer's  dog,  too,  pour'd  a  note  of  thunder, 
'Rattled  his  chain,  and  wagg'd  his  tail,  for  wonder. 

Now  did  the  KING  for  other  beers  enquire  ; 
For  Calvert's,  Jordan's,  Thrale's  entire  — 
And  after  talking  of  tfaefe  different  beers, 
Ask'd  Whitbread.,  if  bis  porter  equall'd  theirs  f 

This  was  a  puzzling,  difagreeing  queftion, 
Grating  like  arfenic  on  his  hod's  digeftion  ; 
A  kind  of  qutftion  to  the  man  of  Cask, 
That  not  e'en  Solomon  hunfelf  would  ask. 


0       251       ] 

Now  Majefly,  alive  to  knowledge,  took 
A  very  pretty  memorandum-book, 
With  gilded  leaves,  of  alTes  skin  fo  white, 
And  in  it  legibly  began  to  write— 

Memorandum. 

A  charming  place,  beneath  the  grates, 
For  roafting  chefnuts  or  potates. 

Mem. 

Tis  hops,  that  give  a  bitternefs  to  beer — 

Hops  grow  in  Kent,  fays  Whitbread,  and  elfewhere- 

Quaere. 

Is  there  no  cheaper  fluff  ?  where  doth  it  dwell  ? 
Would  not  horfe-aloes  bitter  it  as  well  ? 

Mem. 

To  try  it  foon  on  our  fmall-beer,— 
'Twill  fave  us  fev'ral  pounds  a  year, 

Mem. 

To  remember  to  forget  to  ask 

[Old  Whhbr,ead  to  my  houfe  one  day— 
Mem. 

Not  to  forget  to  take  of  beer  the  cask, 
The  brewer  offer' d  me,  away. 

Now  having  pencilled  his  remarks,  fo  fhrew'd— 
Sharp  as  the  point  indeed  of  a  new  pin, 

His  Majefty  his  watch  moft  fagely  view'd, 
And  then  put  up  his  afles  skin. 

To  Whitbread,  now,  deign' d  Majefty  to  fay, 

-*  Whitbread,  are  all  your  horfes  fond  of  hay  ? 


L        252        ] 

*  Yes,  pleafe  your  Majefty,'  in  humble  notes, 
The  brewer  anfwer'd— c  alfo,  Sir,  of  oats. 

4  Another  thing  my  horfes  too  maintains — 

*  And  that,  an't  pleafe  your  Majefty,  is  grains.* 

*  Grains  !  grains  P  faid  Majefty,  '  to  fill  their  crops  ? 

&  Grains  !    grains  I-  that  come  from  hops  ?— yes,  hops-, 
'  hops.,  hops  P 

Here  was  the  King,  like  hounds  fometimes,  at  fault— 
6  Sire,'  ory'd  the  humble  brewer,  *  give  rne  Ieave3 
*  Your  facred  Majefty  to  undeceive  : 

*•  Grains,  Sire,  are  never- made  from  hops,  but  malt,' 

True  !'  faid  the  catuious  Monarch,  with  a  fmile : 
From  malt  !  malt  !  malt  I — I  meant  malt  all  the  while,' 
Yes,'  with  the  fweeteft  bow,  rejoinM  the  brewer, 
A'nt  pleafe  your  Majefty,  you  did,  I'm  fure.'. 
Yes,'  anfwer'd  Majefty,  with  quick  reply, 
I  did,  I  did,  I  did,  I,  I,  1,  IS 

Reader,  whene'er  thon  doft  efpy  a  nofe, 

That  bright,  with  many  a  ruby,  glows  ; 

That  nofe,  thou  in  ay' ft  pronounce,  nay  fafely  fvvear. 

Was  nurs'd  on  fomething,  better  than  fm all-beer. 

Thus  when  thou  findeft  Kings,  in  brewing,  wife— 

In  Natural  Hift'ry,  holding  lofty  ftation  ; 
Thou  may,' ft  conclude,  with  marv'iing  eyes, 

Such  Kings  have  had  a  goodly  education-- 

p 

Now  did  the  KING  admire  the  bell  fo  fin?9 
That  daily  asks  the  draymen  all  to  dine  : 
On  which  the  bell  rung  out  (how  very  proper  !) 
To  C!>ow  it  was  a  bell,  and  had  a  clapper* 


C        253        3 

And  now,  before  their  Sovereign's  curious  eye? 

Parents  and  children,  fine,  fat,  hopeful  fprigs, 
All  finiffling,  fquinting,  grunting  in  their  fly, 

Appear' d  the  brewer's  tribe  of  handfome  pigs  ; 
On  which  th'  obfervant  Man,  who  fills  a  Throne, 
Declar'd,  the  pigs  were  vafHy  like  his  own. 

Now  did  his  Majefty,  fo  gracious,  fay 
To  Mr.  Whhbread,  in  his  flying  way, 

. *  Whitbread,  d'ye  nick  th'  Excifeman  now  and  then? 
c  Ha:,  Whitbread,  when  d'ye  think  to  leave  off  trade? 
f  Ha?,  what  ?  Mifs  Whitbread' s  ftill  a  maid,  a  maid  ? 
6  What,  what's  the  matter  with  the  men  ? 

*  D'ye  hunt  ?— hre,  hunt?  No,  no,  you  are  too  old—* 

*  You'll  be  Lord  May'r— Lord  May'r  one  day — 

*  Ye?,  yes,  I've  heard  fo— yes,  yes,  fo  I'm  told  : 

*  Don't,  don't  the  Fine  for  Sheriff  pay— 

*  I'll  prick  you  ev'ry  year,  man,  I  declare : 

*  Yes,  Whitbread— yes,  yes— you  mail  be  Lord  May'r. 

4  Whitbread,  d'ye  keep  a  coach,  or  job  one,  pray  ? 
'  Job,  job,  that's  cheapeft— yes,  that's  bed,  that's  bed; 

*  You  put  your  liv'ries  on  your  draymen — ha?  ? 

c  Has,  Whitbread?  You  have  feather'd  well  your  neft. 

*  What  is  the  price  now,  ha?,  of  all  your  flock  ? 

*  But,  Whitbread,  what's  o'clock,  pray  what's  o'clock?* 

Now  Whitbread  inward  faid,  <  May  I  be  curft, 
'  f  If  I  know,  what  to  anfwer  fir  ft? 

Then  fearch'd  his  brains,  with  ruminating  eye- 
But  ere  the  Man  of  Malt  an  anfwer  found, 
Quick  on  his  heel,  lo,  Majefty  turn'd  round, 
Skipped  off,  and  baulk'd  the  pleafure  of  r'eply. 

Kings,  in  inquifitivenefs,  fhould  be  ftrong — 

From  curiofity  doth  wifdom  flow  : 
For  'tis  a  maxim  I've  adopted  long, 

The  more  a  man  enquires,  the  more  he'll  know. 


[          =54        j 

Reader,  dfdft  ever  fee  awater-fpout  ? 

'Tis  poflible,  that  thou  wilt  anfwer,  No. 
Well  then !  he  makes  a  mod  infernal  rout  : 

Sucks,  like  an  elephant,  the  waves  below, 
With  huge  probofcis,  reaching  from  the  sky, 
As  if  he  meant  to  drink  the  ocean  dry  : 
At  length,  fo  /////,  he  can't  hold  one  drop  more  ; 
He  burfts—down  rulh  the  waters,  with  a  roar. 

Thus  have  I  feen  a  Monarch,  ru  reviews, 
Suck,  from  the  tribe  of  officers,  the  news  ; 
Then  bear  in  triumph  off  each  wond'rous  matter, 
And  foufe  it  on  the  Queen,  with  fuch  a  clatter  ! 

I  always  would  advife  folks  to  r.sk  queftions— • 
For  truly  queftions  are  the  keys  of  knowledges 

Soldiers— that  forage  for  the  mind's  digeftions— 
Cut  figures  at  th' Old-Bailey,  and  at  College  : 

Make  Chancellors,  Chief  Juftfces,  and  Judges, 
Ev'n  of  the  lowed  green-bag  drudges. 

The  fages  fay,  DAME  TRUTH  delights  to  dwell, 
Strange  manfion  \  in  the  bottom  of  a . Well-- 
Queflions  are  then  the  windlafs  and  the  rope, 
That  pull  the  grave  old  Gentlewoman  up. 
Damn  *  jokes  then,  and  unmannerly  fuggeftions, 
Reflecting  upon  Kings,  for  asking  gueftions  I 

Now  having  well  employed  his  royal  lungs, 

On  nails,  hoops,  ftaves,  pumps,  barrels  and  their  bungs., 

The  King  and  Co.  fat  down  to  a  collation, 

Of  flefli,  and  fiih,  and  fowl,  of  ev'ry  nation. 

Dire  was  the  clang  of  platesi,  of  knife  and  fork, 
That  merc'lefs  fell,  like  tomahawks,  to  work, 
And  fearlefs  fcalp'd  the  fowl,  the  fiih,  and  cattle  ; 
Whilft  Whitbread,  in  the  rear,  beheld  the  battle. 


This  alludes  to  the  late  Dr.  JOHNSON'S  laugh  on  a  Gren* 
Perfonage,   for  a  laudable   curiofuy  in  the   Queen's  Library* 
years  fince. 


The  conquering  Monarch,  flopping  to  take  breath, 
Amidft  the  regiments  of  death, 

Now  tura'd  to  Whitbread,  with  complacence,  round, " 
And  merry  thus  addrefs'd  the  Man  of  Beer— 
6  Whitbread,  is't  true  ?  is't  true  ?  I  hear,  I  hear, 

6  You're  of  an  ancient  family— renown' d — 

*  What  ?  what  ?  Fin  told,  that  you're  a  limb 
4  Of  Pym,  that  famous  fellow,  Pym  : 

*  What,  Whitbread,  is  it  true,  what  people  fay  ? 

6  Son  of  a  Round-head  are  you  ?  ha?  ?  ha?  ?  ha3  ^ 

*  Fin  told,  that  you  fend  Bibles  to  your  votes — 

'  A  fnuffling,  round-headed  fociety— 

*  Pray'r-books,  initeaci  of  cafli  to  buy  them  coats — 

*  Bunyans,  and  Practices  of  Piety. 
6  Your  Bedford  votes  would  wilh  to  change  their  fare ; 
•*  Rather  fee  cafti— yes,  yes— than  books  of  pray'r. 
•*  Thirtieth  of  January,  don't  you  feed  ? 
6  Yes,  yes,  you  eat  calf's  head,  you  eat  calFs  head.' 

Now  having  wonders  done,  on  fleih,  fowl,  Mi, 
Whole  holts  o'erturn'd— and  feiz'd  on  all  fupplics, 

The  royal  vifkors,  exprefs'd  a  wifli, 
To  turn,  to  houfe  of  Buckingham,  their  eyes. 

But  firft  the  monarch,  fo  polite, 

Ask'd  iVIr.  Whitbread,  if  he'd  be  a  Knight. 

Unwilling  in  the  lift  to  be  enrolfd, 
Whitbread  contemplated  the  Knights  of  Peg  ; 
Then  to  his  gracious  So v'reign  made  a  leg, 

And  faid,  4  lie  was  afraid  he  was  too  old. 

*  He  thank'd,  however,  his  moft  gracious  king, 

*  For  offering  to  make  him  fuch  a  THINGS 


But  ah  !  a  dilf'rent  reafon  'twas,  I  fear  ! 
It  was  not  age,  that  bade  the  Man  of  Beer, 

The  proffer'd  honour  of  the  Monarch  fhun. 
The  tale  of  Marg'ret's  knife,  and  royal  fright, 
Had  almoft  made  him  damn  the  name  of  Knight 

A  tale  that  farrow* d  fuch  a  world  of  fun. 


t      256      3 

He  mock'd  die  pray'r  *  too,  by  the  King  appointed, 

Ev'n  by  bimfelf,  the  Lord's  Anointed — 

A  foe  to  faft  too  is  he*  let  me  tell  ye, 
And,  though  a  Presbyterian,-  cannot  think-, 
Heav'n  (quarrelling  with  meat  and  drink) 

Joys  in  the  grumble  of  a  hungry  belly  ! 

Now  from  the  table,  wich  Csefarean  air, 

Up  rofe  the  Monarch  with  his  laurell'd  brow. 

When  Mr.  Whitbread,  waiting  on  his  chair, 

Exprefs'd  much  thanks,  much  joy,  and  made  a  bow.. 

Mifs  Whitbread  now  fo  thick  her  curtfies  drops, 
Thick  as  her  honour' d  father's  Kentiih  hops, 
Which  hop-like  curtfies  were  return'd  by  dips, 
That  never  hurt  the  royal  knees  and  hips  ; 

For  hips  and  knees  of  Queens  are  facred  things, 
That  only  bend  on  gala  days, 

Before  the  befl  of  Kings, 
When  odes  of  triumph  found  his  praife. 

Now  through  a  thund'ring  peal  of  loud  huzzas, 
Proceeding  fome  from  £/>V,  ibme,  unbind  jaws, 

The  raree-ihow  thought  proper  to  retire  ; 
Whilft  Mr.  Whitbread,  and  his  daughter  fair, 

Survey' d  all  Chifwell-ftreet,  with  lofty  air  ; 
For  lo  I  they  felt  themfelves  feme  fix  feet  higher  ! 


Thomas,  is  the  way  to  write  ! 
Thus  fhould'ft  thou  Birth-day  Song  endite  ! 
Then  ftick  to  earth,  and  leave  the  lofty  sky  : 
No  more  of  //  turn  turn,  and  //  turn  ti. 

*  For  the  miraculous  efcape  from  a  poor,  innocent,  infane 
woman,  who  only  held  out  a  fmall  knife  in  a  piece  of  white 
paper,  for  her  Sovereign  to  view. 


C       257       J 

Tims  ihould  ail '  boneft^  Laureat  write  of  Kings — 

Not  praife  them,  for  imaginary  things : 

I  own,  I  cannot  make  my  fhibborn  rhyme 

Call  evVy  King  a  character  iublime  : 

For  confcience  will  not  fufifer  me  to  wander, 

So  very  widely  from  the  paths  of  Cr.niior. 

I  know  full  well,  fome  Kings  *  are  to  be  feeii, 
To  whom  my  verfe  fo  bold  would  give  the  fpleen, 

Should  that  bold  verfe  declare,  they  wanted  brains— 
I  won't  lay,  that  they  never  brain  poflefs'd— 
They  may  have  been,  with  fuch  a  prefent,  blefs'd, 

And  therefore  fancy,  that  fome  /////  remains  : 

For  ev'ry  well-experienc'd  furgeon  knows, 
That  men,  who  with  their  'legs  have  parted, 

Swear,  that  they've  felt  a  pain  in  all  their  foes, 
And  often,  at  the  twinges  ftarted  : 

Then  Hard  upon  their  oaken  flumps,  in  vain  \ 

Fancying,  the  toes  were  all  come  back  again.     , 

If  men  then,  who  their  alfent  foes  have  motirn'd, 
Can  fancy  thofe  fame  toes,  at  times,  returned  ; 
So  Kings,  in  matters  of  intelligences, 
May  fancy,  they  have  Humbled  on  their  fenfes. 

Yes,  Tom— mine  is  the  way  of  writing  Ode- 
Why  lifteft  thou  thy  pious  eyes  to  God  ? 
'Strange  difappointment,  in  thy  looks,  I  read  ,• 

And  now  I  hear  thee,  in  proud  triumph,  cry, 
4  Is  this  an  acTion,  Peter  ?  this  a  deed, 

6  To  raife  a  Monarch  tb  the  sky? 
4  Tubs,  porter,  pumps,  vats,  all  the  Whitbread  throng, 

*  Rare  things,  to  figure  in  the  Mufe's  fong  P 
X 


*  Foreign  Kings. 


U      258      3 

Thomas,  I  here  proteft,  I  want  no  quarrels, 

On  Kings  and  Brewers,  porter,  pumps,  and  barrels- 
Far  from  the  dove-like  Peter,  be  fuch  ftrife  ! 

lut  this  I  tell  thee,  Thomas,  for  a  faft. 

Thy  Csefar  never  did  an  aft 
More  wife,  more  glorious,  in  his  life. 

Now  God  preferve  all  wonder-hunting  Kings, 
Whether  at  Windfor,  Buckingham  or  Kew-houfe. : 

And  may  they  never  do  more  fooliih  things, 
Than  yifiting  Sam.  Whitbrcad,  and  his  brew-houfe  ! 


BROTHER,  PETER, 


BROTHER    TOM. 


A    N 


EXPOSTULATORY   EPISTLE. 


CONTENTS. 


JL  ETER  daringly  expoflulateth  with  THOMAS,,  on  his  unpre 
cedented  filence  on  the  royal  perfections,  in  his  laft  New- 
year's-Ode  ;  Giveth  Thomas  a  JOBATION  ;  Inftrucleth  Thomas 
hi  his  trade  ;.  Talketh  of  Heralds,  Moles,  Field-mice,  and 
GENERAL  CARPENTER  ;  Telleth  a  ftrange  ftory  of  the  General; 
Commendeth  Majefty,  and  laudeth  his  love  of  money,  with 
delicious  finites?  Peter  informeth  Thomas,  how  he  might  have 
praifed  Majefty,  for  piety  and  (economy  ;  Peter's  great  know 
ledge  of  Nature  ;  He  talketh  of  her  different  manufactures  ; 
Peter  praileth  the  royal  Proclamation  for  leaving  off  fin,  and 
reforming  fiddling  courtiers  and  others  ;  Miftrefs  WALSING- 
ITAM  not  able  to  fin  on  a  Sunday  ;  nor  my  Lady  YOUNG— nor 
my  Lord  of  EXETER— nor  my  Lord  BRUDENELL,  whole  excel 
lence  in  attending  on  the  Rump-Royal,  Peter  highly  extollech— 
nor  the  Wellh  King,  WATKYN;  whofe  poor  violincello  P^ter 
pitieth— nor  my  Lord  of  SALISBURY  ;  Peter  intimateth  an  in 
tended  reform  among  cats,  dogs,  pigeons,  wrens,  fparrows 
and  poultry  ;  Love  between  the  afore faid  animals  to  be  fe- 
vercly  puniihed,  if  made  on  the  Lord's  day  ,•  Monday  the 
mod  decent  Any  ;  Sir  JOHN  DICK  giveth  up  Sunday-Concerts 
for  godlinefs  ;  Sir  John's  ftar  his  great  hobby-horfe  ;  Lords 
HAMPDEN  and  CHOLMONDELEY  reproved,  for  profaning  the 
Sabbath  by  a  full  orcheftra,  while  the  King  enjoyeth  only 
wind  inftruments  ;  Peter  relateth  a  fad  tale  of  GERMAN  MU 
SICIAN^,  and  concludcth  with  a  pathetic  fimile  of  a  woodcock 
---Peter  returncth  from  digreflion,  to  Thomas  ,•  Peter  asketh 
ihrewd  queftions  of  Thomas  ;  Telleth  a  delectable  fittle  hif- 
tory  of  the  King  and  fcratch  wigs  ;  Declareth  love  for  Ma- 
icfty  ;  Praifeth  the  parrnermip  ;  Peter  denietli  all  odium  to 
ward  his  Sovereign,  for  a  jealoufy  of  the  PRINCE  OF  WALES, 
for  his  rage  for  HANDET  ,  and  enthufiafm  for  Mr.  WEST  ;  Pe 
ter  giveth  two  fimiles  ;  Peter  telleth  a  tale  ;  Peter  1H11  infift- 
eth  on  love  for  IVIajefty  ;  Inftanccth  royal  Magnanimity— end 
ing  with  curidfity  and  national  advantage  ;  Peter  flioweth  the 
King's  fuperiority  to  the  Prince,  in  the  article  of  books  ;  The 
royal  wardrobe's  fuperiority  to  the  (hops  in  Monmouth-Street 
---Peter  expreffeth  more  love  for  Maicfty  ;  A  tale  ;  Peter 
maketh  a  marvellous  difcovery  of  the  caufeof  Thomas' filence 
in  the  article  of  royal  flattery  ;  His  Majefty  too  much  be 
daubed  ;  The  King  mutteth  up  Thomas'  mouth  ;  Peter  telleth. 
Thomas,  how  he  mould  have  managed  ;  Peter  defcribeth  a 
devil  ;  Enquireth  for  Modefty  ;  Findeth  her  ;  Giveth  a  lovely 
picture  of  Mifs  Morning  ;  And  her  loyal  fpeech  to  Peter  ; 
Peter  cannot  exifl>  or  f*$/fft9  without  Kings;  Peter  citeth  the 
world's  opinion  of  him  ;  Peter  finely  anfwereth  it  ,•  Peter 
feemeth  glad  ;  He  asketh  a  fly  queftion  about  Cartoons  ;  Pe 
ter  telleth  an  uncommon  ftory  ;  Peter  continucth  talking  a- 
bout  Cartoons  ;  Fcareth  that  they  are  in  jeopardy  ;  Peter 
.eondudeth  with  fublime  f milts  of  trouts,  eels,  whales,  goats, 
fhecp,  and  good  advice  to  THOMAS. 


£  S6l  3 


BROTHER   PETER, 


T  O 


BROTHER    TOM. 


_JlJFE !  Thomas,  what  hath  fwallow'd  all  thepraif 
Of  royal  virtues?  not  the  flighted  mention  ! 
Strung,  like  mock  pearl,  fo  lately  on  thy  lays  ! 
Tell  me?  a  bankrupt,  TOM,  is  thy  invention, 

How  cou'dft  thou  fo  thy  PATRON'S  fame  forget, 
As  not  to  pay,  of  praife,  the  annual  debt  ? 

Whitehead  and  Gibber,  all  the  Laureat  Throng, 
To  fame's  fair  Temple,  twice  a  year  prefented 
Some  royal  virtues,  real  or  invented, 

In  all  the  grave  fublimity  of  fong. 

Heralds,  fo  kind,  for  many  a  chance-born  wighr. 

Creeping  from  cellars,  Quft  like  fnrJi.-?  from  earth, 
Or  moles,  or  field-mice,  Healing  into  light) 

Forge  Arms,  to  prove  a  loftineis  of  birch  ;  ' 
X3 


Tracing,  of  cadi  ambitious  Sir  and 

The  branches,  to  the  very  trunk  of  Adam. 

Then  why  not  thou,  the  herald,  TOM,  of  rhyme, 
Still  bid  thy  royal  Matter  foar  fublirae  ? 
Bards  ihine  in  iiftion  ;  then  how  flight  a  thing, 
To  make  a  coat  of  merit  for  a  King  ! 

Know,  Gen'ral  Carpenter  had  been  a  theme, 
For  furnilhing  a  pretty  lyric  dream  ; 

Once  a  monopolift  o-f  nqd  and  fmile, 
Of  broken  fentences,  and  queftions  rare, 
Cf  ihip-fnap  whi'pers  fvveet,  and  grin  and  flare, 

For  which  thy  mufe,  would  travel  many  a  mile* 

But  lo  !  the  Gen'ral,  for  a  crying  fin, 
Loft  broken  fentences,  and  nod,  and  grin, 

And  flare  and  fnip-fnap,  of  the  befl  of  Kings  ; 
The  fin,  the  ciying  fin,  of  rambling, 
Where  Ofnaburgh's  good  Biihop,  gambling, 
Loft  fome  few  golden  feathers  from  his  wings  \ 

Which  made  th' unlucky  Gen'ral  run  and  drown  ; 
Such  were  the  horrors  of  the  royal  frown  ! 
For  lo  J  His  M — y  mod  roundly  fwore, 
He'd  nod  to  Gen'ral  Carpenter  no  more. 

Oh  !  glorious  love  of  all-commanding  money  > 
Dear  to  fame  Monarchs,  as  to  Bruin,  honey  ^ 
Dear,  as  ro  gamblers,  pigeons  fit  to  pluck  ; 
Or  ihov/rs,  to  hackney- coachmen,  or  a  duck  ! 

Thomss,  thy  lyrics  might  have  prais'd  the  King, 
For  making  finners  mind  the  Sabbath-day, 

Bidding  the  idle  fons  of  pipe  and  firing,          * 
Inflead  of  fcraping  jigs,  (ing  p fa  1ms  and  pray  ; 

Thus,  pioufly  (againfl  their  inclination^ 

Dragooning  foul^  unto  ialvation. 

The  Montirch  gave  up  Mr.  Jonh  Bnte, 
Wilh  thst  fweet  nighiingale,  his  lovely  mute, 


Who,  with  the  organ  and  one  fiddle, 
Made  up  a  concert  ev'ry  Sundtiy  night  :  , 
Thus  yielding  Majeflies  fupreme  delight, 

Who  reliih  cheapnefs,  ev'n  in  tweedle-tweedle  : 

For  Nature  formeth  oft  a  kind 
Of  money-loving,  fcraping,  fave-all  mind, 
That  happy  glorieth  in  the  nat'ral  thought, 
Of  getting  av'ry  thing  for  nought  : 

From  Delhi's  diamonds,  to  a  Briftol  (tone  ; 

From  royal  eagles,  to  a  (quailing  parrot ; 
From  bulls  of  Baihan,  tp  a  marrow-bone  ; 

From  rich  annanas,  to  a  mawkifh  carrot  : 
And  getting  things  for  nought,  I  needs  mult  fay, 

If  not  the  noblcft,  is  the  cheapeft  way. 

And  often  Nature  manufaftures  (tuff, 
That  thinks  it  never  hath  enough  ! 
Hoarding  up  treafure— never  once  enjoying— 

Such  is  the  compofition  of  fome  fouls  ! 
Like  jackdaws,  ail  their  cunning  art  employing, 

In  hiding  knives'  and  forks,  and  fpoons,  in  holes, 

Lo  !  by  the  pious  Monarch's  proclamation, 
The  courtier  Amateurs  of  this  fair  nation, 

On  Sundays,  con  their  Bibles — make  no  riot— 
The  fhibborn  Uxbridge,  mufic-loving  Lord, 
Pays  dumb  obedielice  to  the  royal  word, 

And  bids  the  inltrumcnts  lie  quiet. 

Sweet  Miftrefs  Walfingham  is  fcrc'd  to  pray, 
And  turn  her  eyes  up,  much  againft  her  will  ; 

Sandwich  fings  ptalms  too,  in  his  .pious"  way  ; 
And  Lady  Young  forbears  the  tuneful  trill  ; 

And  very  politic  is  Lady  Young — 

A  husband  muf:  not  fufiFer,  for  a  fong. 

The  gentle  Exeter  his  treat  gave  up, 
So  us''d  upon  the  fwcet  repall  to  fup  : 


[        264        j 

As  eager  for  bis  Sunday's  quaver-dim, 
As  cats,  and  rav'nous  Aldermen,  for  fim. 

Lord  BrucTnell,  too,  a  Lord  with  lofty  nofe, 
I  Bringing  to  mind,  a  vcrfe,  the  world  well  knows  j 

Againii  fublimity  that  rather  wars  ; 
Which  in  an  almanack  all  eyes  may  fee  : 
4  GOD  gave  to  man  an  upright  form,  that  he 

6  Might  view  the  Stars/ 

I  fay,  this  watchful  Lord,  who  boafts  tke  knacky 
Behind  his  Sacred  Majefiy's  great  back, 

Of  placing  for  his  latter-end  a  chair, 
Better  than  any  Lord  (fo  fays  Fame's  trump) 
That  ever  waited  on  the  royal  rump— 

So  fwift  his  motion,  and  fo  fweet  his  air  : 

Who,  if  His  Majefty  but  cough  or  hickup,    - 
Trembles,  for  fear  the  King  fhould  kick  up  ; 
Drops,  with  concern,  his  jaw— with  horror  freezes, 
Or  (miles  c  God  blefs  you,  Sire!'  whene'er  he  fneezes; 
This  Lord,  I  fay,  uprais  d  his  convert  chin, 
And  curs' d  the  concert,  for  a  crying  fin. 

King  Watkyn,  from  the  land  of  leeks  and  cheefe, 

With  fighs,  forebore  his  bafs  to  feize  ; 
With  huge  concern,  he  dropped  his  Sunday  airs, 
And  grumbled  out,  in  Welch,  his  thanklefs  pray'rs,     - 

The  bafs,  indeed,  Te  Deum  fung. 
Giad  on  the  Willows  to  be  hung. 

And  really  'twas  a  very  nat'rai  cafe — 

Poor,  moil  en  five  bafs  ! 

For  when  King  Watkyn  fcrubbeth  him— —alack  ! 
The  inurnment,  like  one  upon  the  rack, 
Sends  forth  fuch  horrid  Inquifition-groans  ! 
Enough  to  pierce  the  hearts  of  flones ! 

Thus  though,  in  concert-politics,  the  Knight, 
Battled  with  Miftrefs  Wnlungham  outright  ; 
Yet  both  agreed  to  lift  their  palms, 
Not  in  hofti'lkies,  but  finging  pfalms. 


[        265        3 

Sai'sb'ry  was  alfo  order' d  to  reform, 

Who*  with  my  Lady,  thought  it  vaftly  odd., 

Thus  to  be  forc'd,  like  failors  in  a  ftorm, 
Againft  their  wills,  to. pray  to  God . 

Thus  did  the  royal  mandate,  through  the  town. 
Knock  nearly  all  the  Sanday-concerts  down  : 
Great  j..6t  !  ere  long,  'twill  be  a  fin  and  ftiame, 
For  cats  to  warb'e  out  an  am'rotis  flame  ! 
Dogs  (hall  be  whipp'd,  for  making  love  on  Sunday 3 
Who  very  well  may  put  it  oiT  till  Monday. 

Nay,  more  the  royal  piety  to  prove. 
And  aid  the  pure  ft  of  all  pure  religions,- 
To  Bridewell  fhall  be  fent  all  cooing-pigeons  ; 

And  cocks  and  hens  be  laih'd,  for  making  love  ; 
Sparrows  and  wrens  be  lliet  from  barns  and  houfes, 
For  being  barely  civil  to  their  fpoufes. 

Poor  Sir  John  Dick  was,  Iamb-like,  heard  to  bleat? 
At  lofmg  fuch  a  Sunday's  treat 

Sir  John,  the  happy  owner  of  a  ftar 

Which*  radiant  honour,  on  furtouts  he  ftitches  ; 

Lamenting,  fafhion  doth  not  flretch  fo  far, 
As  fewing  them  on  waiflcoats,  and  on  breeches  ; 
Which  thus  would  pour  a  blaze  of  filver  day, 
And  make  the  Knight  a  perfect  milky- way. 

Yet  Hampden,  Cholrnond'ley,  thofe  finful  (havers, 

Rebellious,  riot  in  their  Sabbath-quavers  ; 

Thus  flying  in  the  face  of  our  great  King, 

Profane  God's  refting-day  with  wind  and  firing  ; 

\Vhilft  on  the  Terrace,  'midft  his  German  band, 

On  Sunday  ev'nings,  George  is  pleas' d  to  (land 

Contented,  with  a  fimple  tune  alone, 

4  God  fave  great  George  our  King,'   or  Bobbing  Joan  ; 

Whilft  Cherubs,  leaning  from  their  ftarry  height* 

Wink  at  each  other,  and  enjoy  the  fight : 


And  Satan,  from  a  lurking  hole, 
Fond  of  a  Teeming-godly  foul, 
His  eyes  and  -ears  fcarce  able  to  believe*--.. 
Laughs  in  his  fleeve. 

Stay,  Mufe — the  mention,  of  the  German  band  ' 

Bringeth  a  tale,  oppreffive,t0  my  hand, 

Relating  to  a  tribe  of  German  boys, 

Whofe  horrid  fortune  made  fome  little  noife  ; 

Sent  ..for,  to  take  of  Englifhman  the  places, 

Who,  gall'd  by  fudrfaird  treatment,  made  wry  faces* 

Sent  for  they  were,  to  feed  in  fields  of  clover, 
To  feafl  upon  the  Coldftreain-reg'ment's  fat  : 

Swift,  with  their  empty  flomachs,  they  flew  over, 
And  wider,  than  a  KevenhuKer  hat. 

But  ah  !  their  knives  no  veal  nor  mutton  carv'd  ! 

To  feafts  they  went  indeed,  but  went  and  ftarv'd  ! 

Their  Matters,  raptur'd  with  the  tuneful  treat, 

Forgot,  muficians  (like  theffifelves)  cou'd  eat. 

Thus  the  poor  woodcock  leaves  his  frozen-mores, 

When  tyrant  Winter  ?rnid(l  his  ternpeft  roars  : 

Invited  *by  our.-inilder  sky,  he  roves  ; 

Views  the  pure  iireams  with  joy,  and  fhelt'ring  groves. 

And  mane  hour,  Oh  !  fad  reverfe  of  fate  ! 

Is  fhou-nnd  fmokes  upon  a  poacher's  plate  ! 

Thus  ending  a  fweet  epifodic  (train, 

I  turn,  dear  Thomas,  to  thy  Ode  again. 

What  \  make  a  diih,  to  baulk  thy  matter's  gums  ! 

A  pudding,  and  forget  the  plumbs  1 
Mercy  upon  us  !  what  a  cook  art  thou  ! 
Dry  e'en  already—what  a  fad  milch-cow  ! 
Who  gnv'ft,  at  firft,  of  Fame  fuch  flowing  pails  \    ' 
Say,  Thomas,  what  thy  lyric  udder  ails  ? 

Since  truth  belongs  not  to  the  hiureat  trade, 
"Tis  ftrange,.'tis  palling  ftrange,  thou  didft  not  flatter* 

Speak— in  light  money,  were  thy  wages  paid  ? 
Or  was  thy  pipe  of  fuck  half  fill'cl  with  water "? 


C      =67      ] 

Or  haft  thou,  Tom,  been  cheated  of  thy  dues  V 
Or  hath  a  qualm  of  confcience  touch' d  thy  Mufe  ? 

Thou  might'ft  have  prais'd,  for  dignity  of  pride, 
Difplay'd  not  long  ago  among  the  Cooks  ; 

Searching  the  kitchen,  with  fugacious  looks. 
Wigs,  chriften'd  fcra-tcbes,  on  their  heads  he  fpy'd. 

To  find  a  wig  on  a  cook's  head, 

Juft  like  the  wig,  that  graced  his  own, 

Was  verily  a  fight  too  dread  ! 
Enough  to  turn  a  king  to  flone  ! 

On  which,  in  language  of  his  very  befl, 

His  Majefty  his  royal  ire  exprefs'd  : 

How!  how!  what!  Cooks  wear  /bw/r^Juftlike  me  I 

Strange  !  itrange  !  yes,  yes,  I  fee,  I  fee  ! 

Fine  fellows,  to  -wear  Scratches  !  yes,  no  doubt — 

I'll  have  no  more—no  more,  when  mine's  worn  out— - 

Ha?  ?  pretty  !  pretty  !  pretty  too  it  looks, 

To  iQZ.my  fcrateheSj-  upon  Cooks !' 

And  lo  !  as  he  had  threatened,  all  fo  big, 

As  foon  as  ever  he  wore  out  the  wig, 

He,  with  a  pig-tail^  deign' d  his  head  to  match  ! 

No  more  profanM  his  temples  with  a  Scratch  ! 

Thomas,  I  fee  my  fong  thy  feelings  grate — 
Thou  think' ft,'  I'm  joking  ;  that  the  King's  my  hate* 
The  world  may  call  me  liar  :  but  fincerely 
I  love  him— for  a  partner,  love  him  dearly  t 
Whilft  his'great  name  is  on  they?/'//;,  I'm  furer 
My  credit  with  the  public  is  fecure. 

Yes,  beef  fhall  grace  my  fpit,  and  ale  fhall  flow, 
As  long  as  it  continues  George  and  Co. — 
That  is  to  fay,  in  plainer  metre, 
George  and  Peter. 

Yet,  as  fome  little  money  I  have  made, 

I've  thoughts  of  turning  Squire,  and  quitting  trade  : 


C         268        ] 

This  in  my  mind  Pve  frequently  revolv'd  ; 

And  in  fix  months,  or  ib, 

For  all  I  know, 
The  partnerihip  may  be  diflblv'd. 

Whatever  thou  think'ft— howe'er  the  world  may  carp, 
Thomas,  Pm  far  from  hating  our  good  King  ; 

Yes,  yes,  or  may  I  thrum  no  more  my  harp, 

As 'DAVID  fwore,  who  touched  fo  well  the  firing— 

No,  Tom  ;  the  idol  of  thy  fweet  devotion 

Excites  not  hate,  wbafever  e/fc  th' emotion. 

To  write  a  book  on  the  Sublime,  I  own, 
Were  I  a  bookfeller,  I  would  not  hire  him  ; 

Vet,  ihould  I  hate  the  man  who  fills  a  throne* 
Becaufe,  forfooth,  I  can't  admire  him  ? 

Hate  him,  becaufe,  ambitious  of  a  name, 

He  thinks  to  rival  e'en  the  Prince,  in  fame  ? 

A  prince  of  fcience — in  the  arts  fo  chafle  i 

A  giant  to  him,  in  the  world  of  tafte  ; 

Who,  from  an  envious  cloud,  one  day,  fhall  fpring  ; 

And  prove,  that  dignity  may  clothe  a  King  ; 

Who,  when  by  Fortune  fix* d  on  Britain's  throne, 
Wherever  merit,  humble  plant,  is  (hown, 
Will  ihed,  around  that  plant,  a  fofl'ring  ray  ; 
Whofe  hand  fhall  (Iretcb,  through  poverty's  pale  gloom. 
For  drooping  GENIUS,  finking  to  the  tomb, 
And  lead  the  blufning  ilranger  into  day. 

Who  fcorns  (like  fome)  to  chronicle  a  (hilling, 
Once  in  a  twelvemonth,  to  a  beggar  giv'n — 

By  fuch  mean  charity  (Lord  help  'em)  willing 
To  go,  as  cheap  as  poffible,  to  Heav'n  I 

Hate  him,  becaufe,  untir'd,  the  monarch  pores 

On  Handel's  mamtfcript  ojd  fcorcs  ; 

And  fchemes  fuccefsful  daily  hatches, 

For  faving  notes,  o'erwhehrfd  with  fcratches  : 

Recov'ring,  from  the  blotted  leaves, 

Huge  cart-horfe  minims,  dromedary  breves  ; 


t        25P        3 

Thus  faving  damned  bars  from  juft  damnation, 
By  way  of  bright*  ning  Handel's  reputation  ! 
Who,  charm' d  with  evVy  crotchet,  Handel  wrote, 
Heav'd,  into  TotVam  Street,  each  heavy  note  : 
And  forcing  on  the  houfe  the  tunelefs  lumber, 
Drove  half  to  doors,  the  other  half  to  (lumber  1 

Hate  him,  becaufe  the  works  of  Mr.  Wed, 
His  eye  (in  wonder  loft)  unfated  views  ! 
Becaufe  his  walls,  with  taftelefs  tru-mp'ry  dreft, 
Rob  a  poor  fign-poft  of  its  dues  I 

Hate  him,  becaufe  he  cannot  red, 

But  in  the  company  of  Weft  ; 

Becaufe  of  modern  works  he  makes  a  jeft, 

Except  the  works  of  Mr.  Weft  : 
Who,  by  the  public,  fain  would  have  carefl 

The  works  alone  of  Mr.  Weft  : 
Who  thinks,  of  painting,  truth  and  tafte,  the  teft, 

Nettie  but  the  wond'rous  works  of  Mr.  Weft  I 

Who,  as  for  Reynolds,  cannot  bear  him  ; 
And  never  .fuffers  Wilfon's  landfcapes  near  him  : 
3NTor,  Gainsborough,  thy  delightful  girls  and  boys. 
In  rural  fcenes  fo  fweet,  amidft  their  joys, 
With  fuch  (implicity,  as  makes  us  ftart, 
Forgetting  'tis  the  work  of  art. 

Which  wonder  and  which  care  of  Mr.  Weft 
May  in 'a  imiile  be  well  expreft. 


A       S    I    M    I    L    E. 

THUS  have  I  feen  a  child,  with  fmiling  fl?co 
A  little  daify,  in  the  garden,  place. 


[  270         .] 

And  ftrut  in  triumph  round  its  jav'rite  flow'r— 
Gaze  on  the  leaves,  with  infant  admiration, 
Thinking  the  flow'r  the  fin  eft  in  the  nation  ; 

Then  pay  a  vifit  to  it,  ev'ry  hour, 
Lugging  the  wat'ring-pot  about, 

Which  John,  the  gard'ner,  was  oblig'd  to  fill. 
The  chird,  fo  pieas'd,  would  pour  the  water  out, 

To  il:o  w  its  marv'Ious  gardening  skill  ; 
Then  flaring  round,  all  wild  for  praifes  panting, 
Tell  all  the  world,  it  was  its  own  fweet  planting  ; 

And  boaft  away— too  happy  elf  ! 

How  that  it  found  the  daify,  all,  itfclf  ! 


ANOTHER      SIMILE. 

IN  Simile,  if  I  may  Ihine  agen 

Thus  have  I  fcen  a  fond  old  hen, 

With  one  poor,  miferable  chick,- 
Buttling  about  .a  farmer's  yard  ; 
Now,  on  the  dunghill,  lab'ring  hard, 

Scraping  away  through  thin  and  thick  : 
Fluttering  her  feathers—making  fuch  a  noife  ! 
Cackling  aloud  fuch  quantities  of  joys  ! 
As  if  this  chick,  to  which  her  egg  gave  birth, 
Was  born,  to  deal  prodigious  knocks  ; 
To  Ihine,  the  Broughton  of  game  cocks  ;  ' 

And  kill  the  fowls  of  all  the  earth  ! 


E'EN  with  his  painter,  let  the  King  be  bleft  I 
!  eat,  drink,  and  deep,  with  Mr.  Weil  ! 
:  let  me,  excus'd  from  fuch  a  gueft, 
Not  eatj  and  drink,  aad  fleep  with  Mr.  Weft : 


And,  as  he  will  not  pleafe  my  tafte— no,  never— 
.Let  me  not  give  him  to  the  world,  as  clever— 
A  better  confcience  in  my  bofom  lies. 
Than  imitate  the  fellow  and  his  flies. 


THE    TOPER    AND    THE    F  L  I  E  S. 

A  GROUPE  of  topers  at  a  table  fat, 

With  punch,  that  much  regales  the  thirfty  foul  : 
Flies  foon  the  party  join'd,  and  join'd  the  chat, 

Humming,  and  pitching,  round  the  mantling  bowl. 

At  length  thofe  flies  got  drunk  ;  and,  for  their  fin, 
Some  hundreds  loft  their  legs,  and  tumbled  in  ; 
And  fprawling  'mkift  the  gulph  profound, 
Like  Pharaoh  and  his  daring  hod,  were  drown' d. 

Wanting  to  drink— one  of  the  men 

Dipp'd  from  the  bowl  the  drunken  ho  ft, 

And  drank  -then,  taking  care  that  none  were  loft, 

He  put  in  ev'ry  mother's  fon  agen. 

Up  jump'd  the  Bacchanalian  crew,  on  this, 

Taking  it  very  much  amifs 

Swearing,  and  in  the  a-ttitude  to  finite  : 

*  Lord  !  (cry'd  the  man,  with  gravely-lifted  eyes) 

*  Though  I  dotft  like  to  fwallow  files, 
6  I  did  not  know  but  others  might? 


WHO  fays,  I  hate  the  Kins',  proclaims  n  1L 
%E'en  now  a  royal  virtue  Hi  ikes  my  eye  ! 
To  prove  ih'aifertiors  let  me  jnft  relate 
The  King's  fubmiilion,  to  the  will  of  Face. 
YS 


['         2/2"          J      - 

Whene'er  in  hunts,  the  Monarch  is  thrown  out-— 
(As  in  his  politics)— a  common  thing  ! 

With  fearching  eyes,'  he  Hares  at  firfl  about  ; 
Then  faces  the  misfortune,  like  a  King  ! 

Hearing  no  news  of  nimble  Mr., Stag, 

He  fits,  like  Patience,  grinning  on  his  nag  ! 

Now.  wifdom-fraught,  his  curious  eye-balls  ken 

The  little  hovels,  that  around  him  rife  ; 

To  thefc  he  trots— of  hogs  furveys  the  flies  ^ 
And  nicely  numbers  ev'ry  cock  and  hen  : 

Then  asks  the  farmer's  wife,  or  farmer's  maid, 
Mow  many  eggs  the  fowls  have  laid — 
What's  in  the  oven— in  the  pot—the  crock — 

, -ther  'twill  rain,  or  no— and  what's  o'clock— 
Thus,  from  poor  hovels,  gleaning  information. 
To  ferve  as  future  treafure'For  the  nation  ! 

There,  terrier-like,  'till  pages  find  him  out, 
lie  pokes  his  mod  fagacious  nofe  about, 

And  feems  in  Pnradife— like  that,  fo  fam'd — 
Looking  like  Adam,  too,  and  Eve  fo  fair  ; 
Sweet  fnnpietons  !  who,  though  fo  very  barer 

4  Were  ((hys  the  Bible)  not  afo&nfd? 

No  in  an  binds  books  fo  well,  as  George  the  Third* 

By  third  of  leather-glory,  Tpurr'd — 

At  book  binders,  he  oft  is  feen  to  laugh — 

And  wond'rous  is  the  King — in.jheep,  or  calf. 

But,  fee  !  the  Prince,  upon  fuch  labour,  looks 
Fafliuious  down,  and  only  readeth  books! 
Here,  by  the  Sire,  the  Son  is  much  .furpafs'd  ; 
Which  Fame  fnouli  pubiifh  in  her  loudeft  biaft. 

The  King  bents  Moninouth-flreet,  in  end-off  riches— 
That  is,  in  coats,  in  waiftcoats,  and  m  breeches — 
Which,  draughted,  once  a  year,  for  foreign  flations,. 
,,e  fine  recruits,  to  ferve  ibmc  near  relations^ 


•[  \l  273.    ] 

Bar,  To  !  the  Prince  (feme  on  him  !)  never  dr 
Of  pretty,  Jcwiili,  oeconomic  icherses  ; 
So  very  proud  (Fin  griev'd,  O  Tom,  to  tell  it} 
He'd  rather  give  a  coat  away,  than  fell  it ! 

Fair  juflice,  to  the  Monarch,  niuf!  allow 
Prodigious  fcience,  in  a— calf  or  cow  ; 

And  wifdom,  in  the  article  of— fwine  ! 
What  mod  unufual  knowledge,  for  a  Fling  ! 
Becaufe  pig-wifdom  is  a  thing, 

In  which  no  Sovereigns  e'er  were  known  to 

Yet  who  will  think,  !  am  not  telling  fibs  ? 

The  PRINCR,  who  Britain's  throne,  in  time,  (h 
Ne'er  finger'd,  at  a  Fair,  a  Bullock V  r/&  ; 

Nor  ever  ogled  a  pig's  face  ! 

0  dire  difgrace  !  Oh  \  let  it -not  be  known. 
That  thus  a  father  hath  excelled  a  fon  ! 

Truth  bids  me  own,  tha:  I  can  bring 

A  dozen,  who  admire  the  King  : 
And,  ihould  he  dream  of  fetting  off  for  Hanov 

(As  once  he  (aid,  he  would,  to  fpite  Charles 

-Draw  all  his'  little  money  from  the  (locks  ; 
Shut  fliop,  and  carry  er'ry  pot  and  paa  over  ; 

1  think— indeed,  Ym'fure,  I  know, 
That  dozen  would  not  let  him  go  ; 

But,  in  the  flruggie,  fpcnd  their  vital    re  u  :- 
And  hug  their  idol,  probably,  to  death  ; 
As  happened  to  a  Romilh  Pried—  a  tale, 
That,  wliilll  I  tell  it,  alrnoll  turns  sue  v\\?^ 


THE     ROMISH     P  R  {  E  3 
A    T  A  L  E. 


,A  PARSON,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Rome, 

Some  years  ago— how  many,  I  dont  fay — 
Handled  fo  well  his  heav'nly  broom, 
He  bruuYd,  like  cobwebs,  fins  away  \ 

Brighten'd  the  black  horizon  of  his  parifn ; 

Gave,  to  the  Prince  of  darknefs,  fuch  hard  blows. 
That  Satan  was  afraid  to  ihow  his  nofe, 

(Except  in  hell}  before  this  prieft  fo  • 


To  teach  folks,  how  to  fiiun  the  paths  of  evil, 
And  prove  a  match  for  Mr-  Devil, 
JVas  conftantly  this  pious  man's  endeavour  ; 
And,  as  I've  hud  before,  the  man  was  clever. 

lled-hor  wss  all  his  zeal— and  Fame  declares, 

He  galloped,  like  a  hunter,  o'er  his  pray'rs  ; 

For  ever  lifting,  to  the  clouds,  his  forehead, 
Petitions  on  petitions,  lie  let  fly, 
Which  nothing  but  Barbarians  could  deny  : 

In  ihorr,  the  Saints  were,  ro  compliance,  worry' (L 

With  Ihoulders,  arms,  and  hands,  this  pried  devout 

So  well  his  evolutions  did  perform  ; 
His  pray'is,  thofe  holy  fmail-ihot,  flew  about 

So  thick  !— it  feem'd  like  taking  heav'n  by  ftorm  ! 

vViJiout  one  atom  of  reflexion, 
^io  candidate,  at  an  election., 


C        *75       ] 

Did  ever  labour  more,  and  fume,  and  fweat, 

To  make  a  fellow  change  his  coat, 

And  blefs  him,  with  die  catting  vote, 
Than  this  dear  man,  to  get  in  heav'n  a  feat, 
For  foals  of  children,  women,-  and  of  men  ; 
No  matter,  which  the  fpecies—  cock  or  hen  ! 

Thus  did  he—  not  like  that  vile  Jefuit,  think, 
Who  makes  us  all,  with  horror,  Ihrink  : 

A  Knave,  high  meriting  hell's  hotted  coals  : 
W:io  wrote  a  dreadful  book,  to  prove, 
That  women,  charming  women,  form'd  for  love, 
Have  got  no  fouls  ! 

Monitor  !  to  think,  that  Woman  had  no  foul  ! 

Ha  i  had  not  Thou  a  foul,  thou  peerlefs  Maid, 
Who  bid'fl  my  rural  hours  with  rapture  roll  ? 

Whofe  beauties  charm  the  ihepherds  and  the  {hade  ? 

Yes  Cynthia  !  and  for  fouls,  like  thine, 
Fate  into  being  drew  yon  flarry  fphere  : 

Then  kindly  fent  thy  form  divine, 

To  ihow,  what  wond'rous  blifs  inhabits  there. 

In  fhort,  no  dray-horfe  ever  work'd  fo  hard, 

From  vaults  to  drag  up  hoglhead,  tun,  or  pipe, 
As  this  good  prieft.  to  drag,  for.  f  mail  reward, 

The  fouls  of  finners  from  the  Devil's  gripe. 
Pleas'  d  were  the  higheft  Angels,  to  exprefs 
Their  wonder,  at  his  line  addrefs, 

And  pow'r  againft  the  fiend,  who  makes  fuch  ftrife  s 
Nay  e'en  St.  Peter  faid—  (to  whom  are  giv'n 
The  Keys,  for  letting  people  into  heav'n)  — 

He  never  got  more  half-pence  in  his  life. 


as  added,  that  my  Namefake  did  declare  ; 
P  :ter,  the  porter  of  HeavVs  gate,  fo  trufly  ; 
That,  till  this  pi  j  eft  appear'd,  fouls  were  fo  rare> 
His  bunch  of  keys  was  abfohuely  rufly. 


Did  Gentlemen  of  fortune  die, 

And  leave  the  Church  a  good  round  fum  ; 
;  Lo  !  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 

The  Parfon  frantfd  their  fouls,  to  Kingdom-come, 
A  letter  .to  the  porter,  or  a  word, 
Infufd  admittance,  to  the  Lord. 

Nor  ftopp'd  thofe  fouls  an  infhmt,  on  the  road, 
To  take  a  road,  before  they  enter'  d  in  : 

For,  had  they  got  the  plague,  'twas  faid  that  God 
Had  let  them  enter,  without  Oli 


Well  then  !  this  Parfon  was  fo  much  admit'  d, 
So  fought,  fo  courted,  fo  defir'd  ; 
Thoufands,  with  putrid  fouls,  like  putrid  meatj, 
Came  for  his  holy  pickle,  to  be  fweet  : 

Juft  as  we  fee  old  hags,  with  jaws  of  carrion, 

Enter  the  {hop  of  Mr.  Warren, 
Who  disappoints  that  highway-man,  calPd  Time, 
(Noted,  for  robbing  Ladies  of  their  prime) 
By  giving  Sixty-five's  pale,  withered  mien, 

The  blooming  roles  of  Sixteen- 

Such  vaft  impreflions  did  his  fermons  make  ; 
He  always  kept  his  flock  awnke  ; 
In  fummer,  too  ;~  -hear,  par-fans,  this  ftrange  news,- 
Ye,  who  fo  often  preach  to  nodding  pews  ! 

A  neighboring  town,  into  whofe  people's  fouls, 

Sin,  like  a  rat,  had  ate  large  holes, 
Bcgg'd  I?  ini  to  be  their  tinker—  their  hole-  ftopper  ; 

For,  gentle  reader,  Sin  of  fuch  a  /art  is, 

It  fouls  cofrodeth,  juft  as  aqua-fortis 
Corrodeth  iron,  brais,  or  copper* 

They  told  him,  they  would  give  him  better  pay, 

If  he'd  agree  to  change  his  quarters  ; 
ProtefHng,  when  his  foul  fheujd  Ictive  its  clay, 

To  rank  his  bones,  with  thole  of  Saints  and  Martyr?. 


[       2/7       3 

This  was  a  handfome  bribe,  all  Paplfts  know  ! 
But  flop— his  parifh  would  not  let  him  go  : 
Then  furly  did  the  other  parith  look, 
And  fvvore,  to  have  the  man,  by  hook  or  crook  5 

So  feiz'd  him,  like  a  gracelefs  throng, 
The  pried' s  Parifhioners,  who  lov'd  him  well, 

(Rather  than  to  another  church  belong) 
Swore,  they  would  fooner  fee  him  lodg'd  in  hell  ; 
So  violent  was  their  objection  ! 
So  very  ilrong,  too,  their  aiFeclion  ! ' 

The  Ladies,  too,  united  in  the  flrife  ; 
Protecting,  that  6  they  lov'd  him,  as  their  life, 

*  So  fweetiy  he  would  look,  when  down  to  pray'r; 

4  So  happy  in  a  fermon  choice  ; 

6  And  then  he  had  of  nightingales  the  voice  ; 
c  And  holy  water  gave,  with  fuch  an  air  ! 

Lord  !  lofe  fo  fine  a  man  !-- fb  great  a  treafure  ! 
Yielding  fuch  quantities  of  heav'nly  pleafure  i 
Forgiving  fins  (o  free,  too,  at  confeflion, 
However  carnal  the  tranfgreffibn, 
In  fuch  a  charming,  love-condemning  (train. 
He  really  feem'd  to  fay,  «  Go  fin  -again  ; 
Hell  fhall  not  throw,  my  Angels,  on  your  fouls, 
So  fweet,  a  (ingle  fhovelful  of  coals.' 

Now  in  the  fire  was  all  the  fat  : 
Jufl  as  two  bull-dogs  pull  a  cat, 
Both  parimes,  with  furious  zeal,  contended  ; 

So  heartily  the  holy  man  was  hugg'd, 
That  very  fatally  the  battle  ended  ! 

In  lliort,  by  hugging,  lugging,  and  kind  fqueezes* 
The  man  of  God  was  pulFd  in  fifty  pieces  ! 

This  work  pcrform'd,  the  bones  were  fought  for  (lout!y; 
And  fo  the  fray  continued  mod  devoutly  : 
Lo  !  with  an  arm,  one  rafcal  fled  ; 
This,  with  a  leg ;  and  that,  the  head  ; 


I     278     ] 

Off,  with  the  foot,  another  goes  ; 
Another  feizes  him,  and  gets  the  toes. 

Nay,  fome,  a  relick  fo  intent  to  crib, 

Fought,  jufl  like  maftiflfs,  for  a  rib  : 

Nay  more— (for  truth,  to  teil  the  whole,  obliges) 

A  dozen  battled,  for  his  Os  Coccygis !  * 

Heav'n,  that  fees  all  things,  faw  the  dire  difpute, 
In  which,  each  pariih  afted,  like  a  brute  : 
Then  bade  the  dead  man,  as  a  Saint,  be  fought  , 
Still  to  reward  him  more,  his  bone*  enriches, 
With  pow'r  o'er  Evils,  Rheumatifms,  and  Itches, 

However  dreadful,  and  wherever  caught. 
Thus,  by  the  grace  of  Him,  who  governs  thunder, 
His  very  toe-nail  could  perform  a  wonder  1 


THUS  might  our  Monarch,  by  tbis  dozen  men, 
Be  hugg'd — and  then  !  and  then  !  'and  then  !  and  then  j 
*  Then,  what  f — why,  then,  this  direful  ill  mud  Ipring ; 
I  a  good  Subjeft  lofe,  and  thou,  a  King  ! 

No,  Tom, !  no  more,  to  flrike  us  with  amaze, 
Thy  courtly  tropes  of  ad  illation  blaze  ; 

A  fettfng  fun  art  thou  ;  fo  mild  thy  beam  J 
Thou—like  old  Ocean's  heaving  wave,  no  rnore,- 
That  lifts  a  (hip,  and  fly,  with  equal  roar — 

Pour'ft,  irom  tby  lyric  pipe,  a  fober  ftream. 

No  more  we  hear  the  gale  of  Fame, 
Wild  biuft'ring,  with  thy  matter's  name  ! 
No  more,  ideal  virtues  ride  fubtime  ; 
Like  feathers—on  the  furge  of  rhyme; 

*  The  tip  of  the  rump, 


[        V9        J 

Bur/lo  the  canfe  !  it  was  the  royal  Will, 
To  bid  the  temped  of  his  praife  be  ftill  ; 
No  more  to  let  his  virtues  make  a  rout, 
Blown  by  the  blails,  like  paper  kites,  about. 

Indeed,  thy  Sovereign,  in  thy  verfe  fo  fin?, 
Might  juftly  have  excfaim'd,   at  many  a  line, 

c  In  peacock's  feathers,  lo  this  knave  arrays  me 
And  like  a  King  of  France,  of  whom  I've  read, 
Our  gracious  So  v'  reign  alfo  might  have  laid, 

c  What  have  -I  done,  that  He  jbould  praife  me  F 

With  pity,  have  I  feen  thee  ;  Son  of  fong, 

Trundling  thy  lyric  wheei-barrovv  along, 

Amidft  St.  James's  gapers  to  unload 

The  motley  mafs  of  pompous  Ode  ; 

And  wifh'd  the  .Sack  —  (for  verfe,  the  annual  prize, 

To  poets  of  a  lefs  renown)  — 
To  poof  Vfill.  Mafon,  who,  in  fecret,  fighs 

lo  ftrut  beneath  the  Laureaf  s  leaden  crown. 

Warm  in  the  praife,  thou  might'ft  have  been, 
Of  thy  great  King,  and  his  great  Oueen  : 
But  not  fo  diabolically  hot  : 
A  Downright  devil,  or  a  pepper-pot. 


By  DtfvY,  (without  thy  being  born  a  wizzard) 
Thou  ought*!!  to  know,  I  mean  a  turkey's  gizzard  ; 
So  chriften'd  for  its  quality,  by  man, 
Becaufe  fo  oft  "tis  loaded  with  Cayenne  : 
This  dev'l  is  fuch  a  red-hot  bit  of  meat, 
As  nothing  but  the  dev'l  himfelf  Ihould  eat. 

K  fpoon  was  large  enough,  the  world  well  knows  ! 

Why  give  the  pap  of  praffe  then  with  a  ladle  ? 
Gently  thou  fliould'ft  have  rock'd  him  to  repofe  ; 

Not,  like  a  drunken  nurfe,  o'erturn'd  the  cradle. 

I  do  not  marvel,  that  the  King  was  wrath, 
(Knowing  himfelf  'no  bigger  than  a  lath) 


To  find  htnifelf  a  tall,  gigantic  oak — 
Twas  too  much  of  a  magic-lantern  (Iroke. 

Ah  !  where  was  MODESTY,  the  charming  maid  ? 

Where  was  the  rural  vagrant  flraying, 
Not  to  admonifti  thee,  an  idle  jade, 

When  thou  thy  tuneful  compliments  wert  paying  ? 
Yet  why  this  queftion  put  I,  Tom,  to  thee  f 
Lord  !  how  We  Wits  forget — ilie  was  with  me. 
\ 

Dear  moclefty  (by  very  few  ctirefs'd) 

Oft  condefcends  to  be  my  gueft  : 
From  time  to  time,  the  maid  my  rhyme  reviews, 
And  didates  fweet  inftruftions  to  the  Mufe. 

Yes,  frequent  deigns  my  cottage  to  adorn, 
Juft  like  that  bafhful  damiel,  call'd  Mifs  Morn  ; 

Who  fmiling  on  the  dreary  caves  of  night, 
Moves  from  her  eaft,  with  filent  pace  and  flow, 
O'er  yonder  fhad'wy  mount's  gigantic  brow, 

And  to  my  window  deals,  with  dewy  light  ; 
Then  peeping  through  the  panes,  with  cherub  mien, 

Seems  to  ask  liberty  to  enter  in. 

Now  venturing  on  the  fables  of  my  room, 
She  fweeps  the  darknefs  with  her  itar-clad  broom  : 
Now  pleas' d  a  ftronger  fplendor  to  diffufe, 
Smiles  on  the  plated  buckles  in  my  ihoes  ; 
Smiles  on  my  breeches,  too,  of  handfoma  plufh, 

Where  George's  heads  once  made  no  gingiing  found; 
But  where,  amidfl  the  pockets,  all  was  huih— 

Such  awful  filence  reign'd  around  ! — 
Wbofe  fob,  which  thieves  fo  often  pick, 
Was  quite  a  llranger  to  s  watch's  click. 

Now  caftin^    on  my  pen  and  ink,  a  ray, 

Seeming,  with  fweet  reproof,  to  fay, 

•*  The  lark,  to  Heav'n,  her  grateful  mattins  fings ; 

c  Then,  Peter,  alfo  ope  thy  tuneful  throat  ; 

*  And,  happy  in  a  fafcinating.  note, 
4  Rife  and  bewitch  the  belt  of  Kings  T 


I  281  ] 

Howe'er  the  world,  t'abufe  me,  may  be  giv'n,; 
I  cannot  do  without  Crown' d  Heads,  by  Heav'n  ^ 
Bards  muft  bave  fubjects,  that  tbeir  genius  fuit— 
And  if  I've  not  crowri'd  heads,  I  -muft  be  mute. 

My  verfe  is  fo  me  what  like  a  game  of  Wlii-ft  ; 

Which  game,  though  pla.y'd  by  people  e'er  fo  keeiv 
-Cannot,  with  much  fuccefs,  ales,  exiil, 

Except  their  hands  pofifefs  a  King  ::nd 'Queen. 
I- own,  my  rnufe  delights  in  royal  folk — 

Lead  mines,  producing  many  pretty  pounds.     > 
Toe  Millars,  furnifhing  a  fund  of  joke ! 

Lo  !  with  a  fund  of  joke,  a' court  abounds. 

At  royal  follies,  Lord!  a  lucky  hit 

Saves  our  poor  brain  th'  expenfe  of  wit. 

At  Princes  let  but  Satire  lift  his  gun, 

The  more  their  feathers  fly,  the  more  the  fun. 

E'en  the  whole  world,  blockheads  and  men  of  letter^ 

Enjoy  a  cannonade  upon  their  betters. 

And,  vice  rerfiL  Kings  and  Queens 
Know  pretty  well,  what  fcandal  means  ; 

And  love  it  too — yes,  Majefty's  a  grimier- 
Scandal,  that  really  would  difgrace  a  liable, 
Hath  oft  been  beckon' d  to  a  royal. table, 

And  pleas' d  a  princely  palate,  more  than  dinner. 

I  know,  the  world  exclaimetb,  in  this  guife  : 

'  Suppofe  a  King  not  over  wife, 

6  (A  vice  in  Kings,  not  very  oft  fufpefted) 
6  Suppofe  he  does  this  child ifh  thing,  and  ibis, 
c  If  folly  conftitutes  a  Monarch's  blils, 

*  Shall  fucn.,  by  fancy  poets,  (land  corre&ed  ? 

•'  Bold  is  the  man,'  old  Parfon  Galenas  *  cries, 
6  Who  tells  a  Monarch,  where  his  error  lies.' 
Z 


YicL  Homer. 


[  282  ] 

4  Grant,  that  a  King,  in  converfe,  cannot  thine, 
4  And  iirarp,  with  ihrewd  remark,  a  world  alarm  ; 

6  What  bus'iiefs,  Peter  Pindar,  is't  of  thine  ? 
6  Grant  puerilities—pray,  where's  the  harm.?' 

To  tins  I  anfwer,  c  1  don't  think,  a  King 
6  Will  go  to  hell,  for  ev'ry  childilh  thing— 
6  Yet,  mind  !  I  think,  that  one,  in  his  great  ftatiou, 
4  Should  ihew  fublime  example  to  a  nation  : 
c  And  when— an  eagle  !•- he  ihould  fpring, 
c  To  drink  the  folar  blaze,  on  tow'ring  wing, 
c  With  daring  and  undazzled  eyes  ; 

*  Not  be  a  fparrow  upon  cbiinnies  hopping, 

*  His  head  in  holes  and  corners  popping, 

'  For  flies.' 

Tom,  I'm  not  griev'd,    that  thou  hall  changed  thy  note, 
And  op'sl,  on  Windfor  wall,  thy  tuneful  throat  ;" 

For  verily  it  is  a  rare  old  mafs  ! 
Nor  angry,  that  to  WEST  thou  dolt  defctnd  ; 
The  King's  great  painting  oracle  and  friend, 

Who  teach  eta  JER.VAS,  how  to  fpoil  good  glafs. 

But,  fon  of  Isis,  flnce,  amidfl  this  ode, 
Thou  talk' ft  of  painting,  like  an  ardeat  lover. 
Of  panes  of  glafs  now  daubing  over, 

Dimming  delightfully  the  great  abode  ; 

Speak— know'ft  thou  aught  of -Raphael's  rwz  Cartoons  ? 
I  have  not  feen  tliem,  Tom,  for  many  moons  ! 

Why  didft  thou  not,  aniidft  thy  rhyming  fit, 
Of  thofe  moft  heav'nly  pictures  talk  a  bit  ; 

For  which,  the  Nation  paid  down  ev'ry  fous  f 
Rare  pictures!  brought  long  fince  from  Hampton  Court^ 
And,  by  a  felf-taugbt  Carpenter,  cut  fhort, 

To  iuit  the  pannels  of  the  Queen's  old  houfe. 

port — I  hope  it  is  not  true  ; 

vui'i'y  beiieve  it  100.4 


C      283      ] 

It.  is  fo  like  fome  people,  I  could  name, 
Whofe  Pericraniums  walk  a  little  lame. 

Beihrew  me,  but  it  brings  to  mh:d 

A  cutting  ftory,  much  of  the  fame  kind  ! 

It  happ'd,  at  Plymouth  town  To  fair  and  fweet, 
Where  wamfring  gutters,  wanti'r'ng  gutters  meet, 

Making",  in  fhowVs  of  rain,  a  monftrous  pother  ; 
Bartering  like  Rag-fair  Jews,  with  one  the  other, 
With  carrots,  cabbage-leaves,  and  breathlefs  cats, 
Potatoes,  turnip-tops,  old  rags,  raid  hats  : 

A  town,  that  brings  to  'mind  Swift's  City  Show'r  ; 
Where  clouds,  to  waih  its  face,  for  ever  pour  : 
A  town,  where  Beau-traps,  under  water,  grin, 
Inviting  gentle  ftrangers  to  walk  in  ; 
Where  dwell  the  Lady  Naiads  of  die  flood, 
Prepar'd  to  crown  their  vifitors  with  mud. 

A  town,  where  pnrfons  for  the  Living  fight, 
On  ev'ry  vacancy,  with  godly  might, 

Like  wreftlers  for  he'd  hits  and  buckskin  breeches 
Where  oft  tlr:  prieft,  who  bed  his  lungs  employs, 
To  make  the  rare  ft  diabolic  noife, 

With  fr.reft  chance  of  vi<5Try  preaches  : 
Whofe  empty  founds  alone  his  labour  blefs  •; 
Like  cannon,  fir'd  by  vciTels  in  diilrels. 


A  town,  where,  exii'd  by  the  Higher 
The  Royal  Tar,  with  indignation,  lours  ; 
Kept,  by  his  Sire,  from  London  and  from  fin., 
To  fay  his  eatechifm  to  Mi  ft  re  fs  Wynn. 
Za 


THS     PLYMOUTH   CARPENTER, 
THE  COFFINS. 

IN  the  la  ft  war,  French  prisoners  often  dy'd, 
Of  fevers,  colds,  and  more  good  things  fcefide — 

Prefents  for  valour,  from  damp  walls  and  chinks,. 
And  nakeclnefs,  that  feldom  fees  a  Ihirt  ; 
And  verrnine,  and  all  forts  of  dirt  ; 

And  irm'titudes  of  motley  ftinks, 

::i!.'.fnt  with  fmells  of  any  clime  compare, 
That  ever  fought  the  nofe,  or  fields  of  air. 

As  coiEns  are  decm'd  neceflary  things, 
Forming  a  pretty  fort  of  wooden  wings, 

For  wafting  men  to  graves,  for  t'other  world  ; 
Where  anchored,  (doonfd  to  make  no  voyages  more) 
The  rudders  of  our  fouls  are  put  afaore, 

And  all  the  fails  for  ever  fuiTd. 

A  carpenter,  fir  ft  coufin  to  the  May'r, 
Hight  Mafter  Screw,  a  man  of  reputation, 
Got  leave,  through  borough-infreit,  to  prepare 

Good  wooden  lodgings,  for  the  Gallic  nation— 
I  mean,  for  lucklefs  Frenchmen,  that  were  dead  ; 
And  very  well  indeed  Screw's  contract  fped. 

His  good  friend,  Death,  made  wonderful  demands,, 
As  if  they  play'd  into  each  other's  hands  ; 
As  if  the  Carpenter  and  Death  went  fnacks  ; 

Wifhing  to  make  as  much,  as  e'er  they  could, 

By  this  flame  contrail  coffin-wood, 
For  fuch  as  Death  had  thrown  upon  their  backs, 

Tills  Carpenter,  like  men  of  other  trades, 
Whom  conference  very  eaiily  perfuades, 

To  take  from  neighbours  ufelefs  fuperfluity  ; 
Refolv'd  upon  an  ceconomic  plan, 
Which  thews,  that  in  the  character  of  man3 

CEconouiy  i«  not  aij.  incongruity. 


L        *S5        ] 

I  know,  fome  monarchs  fay  the  fame—who] 
Beat  high,  for  iv'ry  chairs,  and  beds,  and  b 
For,  lo  !  this  man  of  oeconomic  fort 
Made  all  his  coffins  much  too  iliorr, 
Yet  fnugly  he  accommodates  the  dead — 
Cuts  off,  with  much  fang  froid,  i^e  head, 
And  then  to  keep  it  fafe,  as  well  as  warm, 
He  gravely  puts  it  underneath  the  arm  ; 
Making  his  dead  man  quite  a  PAPJS  beau  ! 
Holding  his  jowl  en  bras  ehapesu. 


But,  Thomas,  now  to  thofe  Cartoons  of  fame-.— 
Dp  ask  thy  Sov'reign,  in  my  name, 

'What's  to  be  done  with  thofe  rare  pictures  next  ? 
Some  months  ago,  by  night,  they  travelled  down, 
To  the  Queen's  houfe,  in  Windier  town  ; 

At  which,  the  London  folks  were  vaitly  vex\!, 
For  if  thofe  fine  Cartoons,  as  hift'ry  fays, 
Were  (much  to  this  great  nation's  praife) 

Bought,  for  the  nation's  fole  infpeftion  ; 
Una$1C4*  to  fuffer  any  man  to  feel  'em, 
Or  fuffer  any  forward  dame  to  Haul  7>m, 

Would  be.n  national  reflection,   - 

Tom,  ask,  to  Strelitz  if  they're  dooTsV  to  go  .; 
Becaufe  the  wails  are  naked  there,  I  know — 

Strelitz  a  moufe-hole  is,  all  dark  and  drear  ; 
And,  fiiould  the  piftares  be  inclin'd  to  dray, 
Not  liking  Strelitz,  they  may  lofe  their  way, 

And  ramble  to  fom-e  Hebrew  auctioneer  ; 


Where,  like  poor  captur'd  negroes 
The  holy  v/and'rers  may  be 
And  Mke  the  goods,  at  ( 
Chrifl'and  the  S;dn^  be  ibid,  by"  in 

nns,  to  concln; 


C        *8<5        ] 

Whether,  like  trout  and  eels,  in  humble  pride, 
Along  the  fimple  ftream  of  profe  we  glide  ; 
Or,  (lining  from  below  a  cloud  of  mud, 
Like  whales,  we  flounder  through  the  lyric  flood  ; 

Or—  (if  a  pafTral  niage  charm  thee  more)— 
Whether  the  vales  of  profe  our  feet  explore, 
Or,  rais'd  lublime  on  ode's  aerial  deep, 
We  bound,  from  rock  to  rock,  like  goats  and  fhecp 


Whether  we  dine  with  Dukes,  on  fifty 

Or,  poet-like,  againfi  our  wifhes, 

On  beef,  or  pork,  an  (economic  crumb, 

(Perchance  no:  bigger  than  our  thumb) 

Turn'd,  by  a  bit  of  packthread,  at  the  fire,. 

To  fatisfy  our  hunger's  keen  defire  ; 

A  good  old  proverb  let  us  keep  in  view  — 

/-'/2.  Thomas,  '  give  the  dev'l  his  due.' 

Whether  a  monarch,  i  (Thing  high  command, 
Smiles  us  to  court,  and  takes  us  by  the  hand  ;-, 
Or  rude  biimbaililrs  touch  us  on  the  ilioulder, 
And  bid  our  tuneful  harps  in  prifon  moulder  ; 
Sell  not  (to  mennefs  funk)  one  golden  line  — 
The  Mu.fe's  incenfe—  foi\a  gill  of  wine. 

This  were  a  poor  excufe  of  thine,  my  -friend  ; 

*  Few  are  the  people,  that  my  ode  attend  : 

*  I'm  like  a  country  clock,  poor,  lonely  thing, 

*  That  on  the  flaircafe,  or  behind  the  door, 

"^  Cries,  '  Cuckoo  !  Cuckoo  !.  juft  at  twelve,  and  four 

*  And  chimes  that  vulgar  tune,  '  God  fav-e  the  King  !9 

Oh!  -if  deferring  Wind  for7  s  lofty  tow'rs. 

fix-pence  in  his  barrack  boiv'rs,, 
',-naruh  ihuffles  from  the  world  away, 

Vs  whims  the  bu  filing  dr.y  ;• 
.nes,  thy  promisM  prail>  recall,. 
lir.g  more  woiKkis  of  the  old  Mtici  \; 


T    E    T    E    R  '  * 

P    EN    S    I    O    N 

A 
SOLEMN    EPISTLE 

T   O       A 

SUBLIME    PERSONAGE. 


ffearf  is  inditing  of  a  good  Matter  —  /  fp'eai  of  the  things 
u  which  I  have  made^  unPo  the  KING." 

PSALM  xlv. 

*4  Non  £o]Jum  tecum  vivere9  ntc  fixe  te?* 


THE     A  R   G   U  M  E  N   T. 


A 


,  GR4ND  Exordium,  containing  news  from  Jericho  ;  Peter 
ifjformeth  Maiefty  of  tie  great  noifs  on  their  refptctive  accounts  $ 
and  talketh  of  Samp  Ton  and  Dalilah  ,•  the  London  Coffee-houfes, 
and  the  Royal  Exchange;  Peter  explaineth  the  catife  of  the  great 
noife)  and  Ejaculated!  ;  talketh  of  preparations  at  the  Palace ^  fo# 
his  difgrace  and  murder  ;  Peter  informetb  Majefty^  of  what  Ma- 
jtfty  hath  been  informed  $  complaineth  that  he  batb  b&en  pictured 
a  downright  Devil  ;  beggetb  that  a  proper  enquiry  may  be  inftitti- 
ted ;  Peter  pronounce  tl  biwfelf  no  Devil  ;  Peter  writetb  foft 
Sonnets^  to  prove  that  he  biHh  not  a  hard  heart. 

Peter  talketh  of  Courtiers  and  court  matters  ;  of  vobat  the  world 
•wickedly  fayetb  of  him  ;  Peter  cannot  convince  the  world  ;  men" 
tionetb  the  defpondence  of  the  Ne^vfpapers^  Magazines  and  Re 
views  ;  alfo  the  famine  in  poetry  ;  Peter  exculpatetb  Majefty  5 
Peter  reftifetb  modeftiy  ,•  binfetb  at  Royal  misfortunes^  Diamonds, 
Nabobs,  and  an  action  of  Trover  ,•  Peter  prophefietb  mournfully  $ 
giveth  the  Hiflory  cf  Nebuchadnezzar's  grafs  diet  ;  Peter  afford- 
«th  good  reafons,  for  refajing  a  Pen/ton  ;  relateth  an  anecdote  of 
€i  dead  Archbifhop  ,'  forweth  a  fibewe  for  nniverfal  Happinefs^  by 
difcovering  Sin  and  Shame  to  be  a  pair  of  Impoftors,  and  for 
making  mournful  Sunday  merry  ;  Peter  outdoeth  old  Poets  in  e- 
gotifm  ;  conds-nne'ib  Miftrefs  Darner,  the  great  flie-ftatuary,  for 
attempting  ottr  moft  Cublime  Sovereign-,'  Peter,  like  many  au 
thors^  exbibitetb  prodigious  acquaintance  with  ancient  Literature^ 
by  mentioning  the  names  of  Jupiter,  Phidias,  Praxiteles,  Virgil^ 
and  Augnftus  Cjefar  ;  Peter  -pujfetb  again  ,-  Peter  produce th  a 
Tale  about  Majefty,  Mr.  Pvobinfon,  Alderman  Skinner,  and 
choked  Sheep  ; ' alfo  a.  Tale  <*/-Majefty  and  Parfon  Young,  ivhofe 
neck  was  unfortunately  unhinged  at  a  hur,t. 

Peter  flill  bankereth  after  Penfions  ;  declaitnetb  on  the  powers 
of  poetry,  as  alfo  on  his  own  miraculous  powers  ;  Peter  profeffetb 
independency  and  great  capability  of  waking  a  hearty  mvtton-bone~ 
dinner ,  like  Andrew  Muriel  ,'  Pster  diftrnftstl^  ki;  fortitude  ; 
quotetb  oppofi! ion-men  for  pitiful  defertion  of  Principle  ;  and  def- 
canteth  on  money  ;  Peter  telletb  an  sppofie  Tale  cf  Lady  Hunting- 
ton's  Parfon^  a  Dog,  and  a  Squire, 

Peter  quote tb  the  Wmd' and  Mr.  Eden  ,-  exhibit eth  more  Jymf- 
toets  of  Penjion-love  ;  conclude tb  in  a  foam  agalnft  knighthood. 


P    E    T    E    K  '  t 


P     E     N  -   S    I     O     N. 


'READ  Sir!  the  ram's  horns,  that  blew  down 
The  walls  of  Jericho's  old  town, 

Made  a  molt  monftrous  uproar,  all  agree — 
But  lo  !  a  louder  noife  around  us  rages, 
About  two  inoft  important  perfonages  ; 

No  lefs,  my  Royal  Liege,  than  Ton  and  Me  I 

*In  Ihorr,  not  greater  the  Philiftines  made, 
When  DALILAH,  a  little  artful  jade, 
(Indeed  a  very  pretty  girl) 
Snipp'd  off  her  lover,  Mr.  SAMPSON'S  curl,. 
Who  well  repaid  the  clamors  of  the  bears, 
By  pulling  down  the  houfe  about  their  ears,. 

Prodigious  is  the  ihake  around, 
Still  London  keeps  (thank  God)  her  ground- 
Yet,  how  tir  Exchange,  and  Coffee-I  Joufes,.  ring  ! 
Nothing  is  heard,  but  Peter,  and  the  King  : 
The  handfome  bar-maids  flare,  as  mute  as  fifties  ; 
And  follow  waiters,  frighten'd,  drop  their  di flies ! 


At  firft  'twas  thought  the  triumph  of  the  Jews, 
'  On  foine  great  vift^y  in  the  boxing  way  : 
The  news,  the  very  anti-chriftian  news, 

Of  IfraeFs  Hero  *  having  won  the  day  ; 
And  Humphries,  a  true  Chdftian  boxer,  beat — 

Enough  to  give  all  Christendom  a  fweat. 

Again,  'twas,  thought  great  news  of  the  Grand  Turk?  . 
Who  on  his  hand  had  got  fome  ferious  work. 

'Twas  fancied,  he  had  loft  the  day  ; 
That  ev'ry  Muifulman  was  -kili'd  in  battle,  . 
A  fate  moil  proper  for  fuch  heathen  cattle, 

Who  do  not  pray  to  God,  our  way. 

But  lo  !  .unto  the  lofty  skies, 

Of  found,  this  wonderful  afcenfion, 
Doth  verily,  my  Liege,;  from  this  arife  ; 

That  you  have  giv'n  the  gentle  Bard  a  penfion 

Great  is  the  ihout,  indeed  Sir,  all  abroad, 
That  you  have  order'd  me  this  handfome  thing  ; 

On  which,  with  lifted  .eyes,  I've  faidv  "  Good  God  ! 
"  Though  great  my  merits,  yet  how  great  the  King!' 

And  yet,  believe  me,  Sir,  I  lately,  heard, 

That  all  your  doors  were  doubly  lock'd  and  barr'd 

Again  il  the  POET,  for  his  mneful  art  ; 
And  that- the  tall,  Miff,  ftately,  red  machines, 
Your  Grenadiers,  the  guards  of  Kings  and  Queens,. 

Were  order'd  all  to  itab  me  to  the  heart. 

That,  if  to  Houfe  of  Buckingham  I  came, 
Commands  were  giv'n  to  Miftrefs  Brigg, 

A  comely,  (lout,  two-handed  dame, 
To  box  my  ears,  and  pull  my  wig  : 

The  Cooks,  to  fpit  me — curry  me,  the  Grooms, 

And  Kitchen  Oiteans,  to  bade  me  with  their  brooms* 


*  Mcndoza* 


r      291      ] 

You're  told,  that  in  my  ways  I'm  very  evil  ! 
So  ugly  !  fit  to  travel  for  a  ihow  ; 
And  that  I  look  all  grimly,  where  I  go, 

With  horns^fnd'tdl!  and' hoofs,  that  make  folks  ftart  ; 
And  in  my  breaft,  a  mill-Hone  for  a  heart ! 

This  cometh  from  a  certain  painter,  SIRE  ; 
•Bid  ftory-moufing  Nicolay  enquire, 

Your  Page,  your  Mercury,  with  cunning  eyes  ; 
•Who  jumping  at  each  found,  fo  .eager  ope* 
His  prettv  wither'd  pair  of -.Cbinefe  chops, 

Like  a*  Dutch  dog,  that  leaps  at  buttetB  «> 
He,  Sire,  will  look  me  o'er,  and  will  not  ta 

To  fvvear,  that  I've  no  horns,  nor  hoofs,  nor  tail. 

Lord  !  Lord  !  thefe  favings  grieve  me,  and  furprife  ! 
Dread  Sir,  don't  fee  with  other  people  s  eyes- 

No  dev'l  ran  I,  with  horns,  and  tail,  and  hoofs  ; 
As* for  the  likenefs  of  my  heart,  to  ftone— 
*No,  Sir— 'tis  full  as  tender,  as  your  own-- 

Accept,  my  Liege,  fome  fimple  love-lick  proofs, 


To  AN  UNFORTUNATE  BEAUTY. 

,  lovely  Maid,  with  downcaft  eye, 
And  cheek,  with  filent  forrow,  pale  ; 
What  gives  thy  heart  the  lengthen  d  tigti. 
That  heaving  tells  a  mournful  tale  ? 


Thy  tears,  which  thus  each  other  chafe, 
Befpeak  a  breaft  o'erwhelm'd  with  woe  : 

Thv  fighs,  a  dorm,  that  wrecks  thy  peace, 
Which  fouls  like  thine  mould  -never  know. 


Oh  !  tell  me,  doth  fotne  favoured  Youtk 
Too  often  bled,  thy  beauties  flight  ; 

And  leave  thofe  thrones  of  love  and  truth, 
That  lip,  and  boibm  of  delight  ? 

What  tho'  to  other  nymphs  he  flies, 

And  feigns  the  fond,  impaffion'd  tear  ; 
Breathes  all  the  eloquence  of  fighs, 
That  treach'rous  won  thy  artlefs  ear  ! 

Let  not  thofe  Nymphs  thy  anguilh  move, 
For  whom  his  heart  may  feem  to  pine — 

That  heart  fhall  ne'er  be  blelt  by  LOVE, 
Whole  guilt  can  force  a  pang  from  thine. 


To    C  Y  N  T  II  I  A. 

AH  !  tell  me  no  more,  my  dear  girl,  with  a  fighs 
That  a  coldnefs  will  creep  o'er  my  heart  ; 

That  a  fullen  indiff'rence  will  dwell  on  my  eye, 
When  thy  beauty  begins  to  depart. 

Shall  thy  graces,  O  Cynthia,  that  gladden  my  day, 
And  brighten  the  gloom  of  the  night, 

£Till  life  be  extinguiftYd)  from  memory  ftray, 
Which  it  ought  to  review  with  delight  ? 

•Upbraiding,  {hall  Gratitude  fay,  with  a  tear, 
6  That  no  longer  I  think  of  thofe  charms, 

*  Which  gave  to  my  boforn  fuch  rapture  fincere, 
*  And  faded,  at  length,  in  my  arms  f 

Why  yes  !  it  may  happen,  thou  Damfel  divine ! 

To  be  honed— 1  freely  declare, 
That  e'en  now  to  thy  convcrfe  fo  much  I  incline* 

I've  ^already  forgot,  thou  art  fair. 


£93 


To      L    A    U    R    A. 

HOW  happy  was  my  mom  of  love, 
When  firft  thy  beauty  won  my  heart  1 

Mow  guiltlefs  of  a  with  to  rove  ! 

1  deem'd  it  more  than  death,  to  part  1 

Whene'er  from  thce  I  c'hanc'd  to  dray, 
How  fancy  dwelt  upon  thy  mien, 

That  fpread  with  flow'rs  my  diilant  way, 
And  fhow'r'd  delight  on  ev'ry  fcene. 

But  Fortune,  .envious  of  my  joys, 
Math  robb'd  a  lover  of  thy  charms  ; 

From  me  tliy  fweetell  fmilc  decoys, 
And  gives  thee  to  another*,  arms. 


Yet,  though  my  tears  are  doom'd  to 
May  tears  be  never  Laura's  lor  ; 
Let  Love  protcd  fhy  heart  from  woe  ; 
;  His  wound  to  mine  (hall  be  forgot. 


•II  Y  M  N    TO    MODE  S  T  Y. 

0  !   MODESTY,  thou  fliy  and  bluihing  maid, 
Don't  of  a  iimple  Shepherd  be  afraid  } 

Wert  thou  my  lamb,  with  fweet-jil  grals  I'd  treat  thee 

1  am  no  WOLF,  fo  favage,  that  ihould  eat  thee  : 

A  a 


[        2P4       3 

Then  hafte  with  me,  O  Nymph,  to  dwell, 
And  give  a  Goddefs  to  my  cell 

Thy  fragrant  bread,  like  Alpine  fnows  fo  white. 

Where  all  the  nettling  Loves  delight  to  lie  : 
Thine  eyes,  that  (bed  the  milder  light 

Of  NIGHT'S  pale  Wand'rer  o'er  her  cloudlefs  sky^ 
O  Nymph,  my  panting,  wifhing  bofom  warm, 
And  beam  around  me,  with  a  world  of  charm 

Then  hafte  with  me,  O  Nymph  to  dwell, 

And  give  a  Goddefs  to  my  cell  ! 

Thy  flaxen  ringlets,  that  luxuriant  fpread, 
And  hide  thy  bofom  with  an  envious  {hade  ; 
Thy  poliih'd  cheek  fo  dimpled,  where  the  rofe, 
In  all  the  bloom  of  rip'ning  fiimmer,  blows  : 
Thy  lufcious  lips,  that  heav'nly  dreams  infpire, 
By  Beauty  form'd,  and  loaded  with  Defire  ; 
With  forrow,  and  with  wonder,  lo  /  I  fee 
(What  melting  treafures  !)  thrown  away  on  thee. 

Then  hafte  with  me,  O  Nymph,  to  dwell, 

And  give  a  Goddefs  to  my  cell ! 

Thou  knoweft  not  that  bofom's  fair  defign  ; 
And  as  for  thofe  two  pouting  lips  divine, 

Thou  think'ft  them  form'd  alone  for  fimple  chat 
To  bill,  fo  happy,  with  thy  fav'rite  dove, 
And  playful  force,,  with  fweetly-fondling  love, 
Their  kiffes  on  a  lap-dog  or  a  cat. 

Then  hafte  with  me,  meek  maid,  to  dwell, 
And  give  a  Goddefs  to  my  cell  ! 

Such  thoughts  thy  fweet  fimplicity  produces  ! 
But  I  can  point  out  far  fublimer  ufes  ; 
Ufec,  the  very  beft  of  men  efteem — 
Of  which  thine  innocence  did  never  dream  : 

Then  hafte  with  me,  meek  maid,  to  dwell, 

And  give  a  Goddefs  to  my  cell  ! 

Oh  !  fly  from  Impudence,  the  brazen  rogue, 
Whofe  flippant  tongue  hath  got  the  Irilh  brogue  ; 


[        sps        3 

Whofe  hands  would  pluck  thee,  like  the  faired  flowY, 
Thy  cheeks,  eyes,  forehead,  lips  and  neck  devour  : 
Shun,  fhun  that  Caliban,  and  with  me  dwell  : 
Then  come,  and  give  a  Goddefs  to  my  cell  ! 

The  world,  O  fimple  maid,  is  full  of  art, 
Would  turn  thee  pale,  and  fill  with  dread  thy  heart, 
Didd  thou  perceive  but  half  the  fnares, 
The  Dev'l,  for  charms  like  thine,  prepares  ! 

Then  hade,  O  Nymph,  with  me  to  dwell. 

And  give  a  Goddefs  to  my  cell  ! 

From  morn  to  eve,  my  kifs  of  fpeechlefs  love, 
Thy  eyes'  mild  beam  and  blufties  ihall  improve  ; 
And  lo  !  from  our  fo  innocent  embrace, 
Yo^ng  Modedies  fhall  fpring,  a  num'rous  race  i 
The  blufhiag  girls  in  ev'ry  thing  like  Thee, 
The  bafhful  boys  prodigioufly  like  Me  ! 

Then  hade,  with  me,  O  Nymph,  to  dwell., 

And  give  a  Goddefs  to  my  cell ! 


IS  not  this  pretty,  Sir  ?  can  aught  be  fweeter  ? 
Inftead  of  that  vile  appellation,  c  Devil,' 
So  blackguard,  fo  unfriendly  and  uncivil, 

Should  not  I  be  baptiz'd,  the  gentle  PETER  ? 

Great  is  the  buzz  about  the  Court, 

As  at  th'  Exchange,  where  Jews,  Turks,  Chridians 

meet, 
Or  Smithfield  Fair,  where  beads  of  ev'ry  fort, 

Pigs,  Sheep,  Men,  Bullocks,  all  fo  friendly  greet. 

Bufy  indeed  is  many  a  fly,  court-leech  ! 

Afraid  to  truft  each  other  \vith  a  fpeech  ; 

In  hems,  and  hahs,  and  half-words,  hinting  : 

Some  whifp'ring,  lift'ning,  tip-toe-walking,  fquinting. 

A  32 


C      996     ] 

For  lo  !  To  warily  each  counier  fpeaks, 

They  feem  to  talk,  with  halters  round  their  necks,- 

Some  praife  the  King,  for  npblenefs  of  fpirit? 
For  ever  ftudying,  how  to  find  out  merit  ; 
¥v7hilft  from  its  box  their  heart  doth  flily  peep.,, 

And  ask  the  tongue,  with  marv'ling  eyes, 
How  it  can  bear  to  tell  a  heap 

Of  fuch  unconfcionable,  bare-fae'd  lies  ? 

*  How  are  the  mighty  falPn  !'  the  people  cry- 

Meaning  MR — 

*  Another  hog  of  Epicurus'  fly  I 

4  This  vile  apoftate  bends,  to  Eaaly  the  knee  , 
c  Lo  !  for  a  little  meat  and  guzzle, 

*  This  fneaking  cur,  too,  takes  the  muzzle. 

4  In  lyric  fcanda!,  foon  will  be  a  chafm — 

*  .He  wrote  for  bribes,,  'tis  plain  ;   and  now  he  has 

*  This  mighty  war-horfe  will  be  foon  in  hand, 

*  By  means  of  meat,  the  price  of  venal  notes, 
4  Calm  as  a  hackney  coach-horfe  on  his  Hand, 

4  Toiling  about  his  nofe-bag  and  his  oats.. 

*  Whatever  he  hath  fard,  he  dares  unfay, 

4  In  native  impudence  fo  rich  ; 
•**  Explain  the  plained  things  away, 

*  And  ca'l  his  mufe  a  forward  b —  ; 

'  Treat  fire  of  friendly  promifes  as  fmoke, 
c  And  laugh  at  truth  and  honor  as  a  joke  f 
Such,  Sir,  is  your  good  people's  howl, 
As  thick  as  fmall  birds  peft'ring  a  poor  owl. 

Ir,  vain  I  rell  the  world  around, 
That  I  have  not  a  penfion  found  ; 

U'hieli  fpecch  of  limple  truth  the  mob  enrages,,. 
'  I''!r7ER,  this  is  an  arm  in  lie — 

*  The  fvfl  b  clear,  too  clear  !'  they  cry  ; 

*  Thcni  haft  already  twclfz  a  quarter7;;  wages* 


<  Varlet,  it  always  was  thy  vile  intention — 

*  Thou  haft,  chou  haft,  thou  liar,  got  a  penfion  f 

Still,  to  fupport  my  innocence,  I've  faid, 
Moft  finfully,  I  own—'  I  han't,  by  G~d !' 

Yet,  had  I  fworn  my  eyes  out  of  my  head., 
They  never  had  believ'd— How  vaftly  odd  ! 

The  morning  and  the  ev'ning  papers, 
Struck  by  the  found,  are  in  the  vapors, 

And  mourn  and  droop,  to  think  I'm  dead  ; 
Stunn'd  by  the  unexpected  news, 
The  Magazines  and  the  Reviews, 

For  grief,  can  fcarcely  lift  their  head. 

'  Nothing  but  poor  mechanic  fluff,'  they  cry, 

*  Shall  now  be  quoted  for  the  public  eye  ; 

'  Nothing  original  in  fong  ; 
'  No  novelty  of  images  and  thought, 
«  Before  our  fair  Tribunal,  mall  be  brought  ; 

*  But  trifling  tranfpofitions  of  our  tongue. 

'  Nought,  but  a  folemn  pomp  of  words, 

6  Bearing  a  lifelefs  thought,  ihall  readers  meet— 
*•  The  pifhire  of  a  fun'ral,  that  affords 

*  So  folemn  marching  through  the  flaring  flreet. 

6  Where  flags,  and  horfe,  and  foot,  a  forrow  ape, 

*  With  all  the  dread  difmality  of  crape, 

*  Near  the  poor  corpfe — perhaps  a  puny  brat, 
6  Or  dry  old  maid,  as  meagre  as  a  cat.' 

No,  Sir ;  you  never  offer'd  me  a  penfion — 
But  then  I  guefs,  it  is  your  kind  intention  ; 
Yes,  Sir,  yon  mean  a  fmall  douceur  to  proffer; 
But  give  me  leave,  Sir,  to  decline  the  offer. 

I'm  much  oblig'd  t'ye,  Sir,  for  your  good  will  ; 

But  Oratorios  have  half  undone  ye  : 
'Tis  whifper'd,  too,  that  thieves  have  robb'd  the  Till, 

Which  kept  your  milk  and  butter  money. 

A, 13 


So  much  with  faving  wifdom  are  you  taken, 
Drury  and  Covent  Garden  Teem  forfaken  ; 
Since  coft  attended!  thofe  theatric  borders, 
Content  you  go  to  Richmond  Houfe  with  orders.-^ 

Form'd  to  delight  all  eyes,  all  hearts  engage, 
When  lately  the  fweet  Princefs  §  came  of  age, 
Train  oil,  inftead  of  wax,  was  bid  t'  illume 
The  goodly  company  and  dancing^room  ! 
This  never  had  been  done,  I'm  very  fure, 
Had  not  you  been,  fome  wty  or  other  ^  poor, 

You  now  want  guineas,  to  buy  live  Hock,  Sir, 
To  graze  your  Windier  hill  and  vale  ; 

And  farmers  will  not  let  their  cattle  ftir, 
Until  the  money's  down  upon  the  nail. 

I'm  told,  your  (beep  have  dy'd  by  dogs  and  bitches^ 
And  that  your  fowls  have  fufFer'd  by  the  fitchews  ; 
And  that  your  man-traps,  guards  of  goofe.  and  ducky 
And  cocks  and  hens,  have  had  but  fo-fo  luck  : 
Scarce,  fifty  rogues,  in  chafe  of  fowls  and  eggs,  > 
Have,  in  thefe. loving  engines,  loll  their  legs.  , 

The  Bulfe,  Sir,  on  a  vifit  to  the  TowV, 
Howe'er  the  Royal  Vifage  may  look  four,  : 
Howe'er  an  object  of  a  deep  devotion, 
Mud  crofs  once  more  the  eaftern  Ocean, 

Indeed  Ihopc,  the  di'monds  will  be  off^  '- 

Or -fcandal  on  us  rolls  in  floods — 
Some  Nabob  -may  be  vile  enough, 

To  bring  an  action  for  flbl'n  goods — 
An  action-  ("to  'peak  lawyer-like)  of  Trover  \ 
And  Heav'n  forbid,  it  ihould  come  over  ! 


nit  the  .be&rcr  Into  the  plry-houfc,  gratis* 


For  money-matters,  I  ani  fare, 

The  Abbey  mufic  was  put  off ; 
Becaufe  the  Royal  purfe  is  poor, 

Plagu'd  with. a  dry  confumptive  cough-;- 
Yet?  in  full  health,  again  that  purfe  may  riot. 
By  God's  grace,  and  a.  skim-milk  diet, 

Glofe  as  a  vice,  behold  the  nation's  fifl  ! 
Vain  will  be  mouths  made  up,  for  civil  lift  ; 
And  humble  pray'rs  ib  very  ftale, 
Will  all  be  call'd  an  old  wife's  tale. 

Your  faithful  Commons,  to  your  cravings/ 
Will  not  give  up  the  nation's  favings--. 
Your  fav'rite  minifter,  (Fin  told)  runs  refliff^ 
And  growls  at  fuch  petitions,  like  a  maftiff. 

What  if  my  good  friend,  Haflings,  goes  to  pot  ? 

Adams  and  Anftruther  have  flung  hard  (tones— 
Pie  finds  his  fituation  rather  hot — 

Burke,  Fox,  and  Sheridan,  may  break  his  bones, 

As  furely  as  we  fa-w  and  felt  the  bulfe, 
Haftings  hath  got  a  very  aukward  pulfc  ; 

Therefore  in  jeopardy  the  culprit  Hands  ! 
Like  patients,  whofe  diforders  doftors  flight 
Too  often,  he  may  bid  us  all  good  night  ; 

And  flip,  poor  man,  between  our  hands. 

Then,  Sir  !  Oh  !  then,  as1  long  as  life  endures, 
Nought  but  remembrance  of  the  bulfe  is  ours^ 
And  to  a  ftomach,  that,  like  our's,  digells, 
Slight  is  the  dinner  on  remembered  feaRs. 

I  think,  we  cafes  underlland,  and  ken 
Symptoms,  as  well  as  molt  'ifigcmous  men  ; 
But  Lord  !  how  oft  the  wifeu  are  miitaken  \. 
Therefore  I  tremble  for  his  badger'd  bacon- 


We  may  be  out,  with  all  our  skill  fo  clever, 
And  what  we  think  an  ague,  prove  jail-fever* 

NEBUCHADNEZZAR,  Sir,  the  KING, 
As  facred  Hift'ries  fweetly  fmg,, 
Was,  on  all-fours,  turn'd  out  to  gra(s, 
Juft  like  a  horfe,  or  mule,  or  afs. 

Heav'ns  !  what  a  fall  from  kingly  glory  !. 
I  hope,  it  will  not  fo  turn  out, 
That  we  fhall  have  (to  make  a  rout) 

A  fecond  part  of  that  old  ftory  ! 

This  penfion  was  well  meant,  O  glorious  King,. 

And  for  the  Bard  a  very  pretty  thing  ; 

But  let  me,  Sir,  refufe  it,  I  implore — 

/  ought  not  to  be  rich,  whilft  you  are  poor  ; 

No,  Sir,  I  cannot  be  your  humble  hack  ; 

I  fear,  your  Majefty  would  break  my  back. 

I  dare  refufe  you,  for  another  reafon — 

We  differ  in  religion,  Sir,  a  deal  ; 
You  fancy  it  a  fin  ally'd  to  treafon, 

And  vaftly  dang'rous  to  the  commonweal, 
For  fubjedts,  minuets  and  jigs  to  play 
On  the  Lord's  day. 

Now,  Sir,  I'm  very  fond  of  fiddling — 

And  in  my  morals,  what  the  world  calls  middling. 

I've  ask'd  my  conscience,  that  came  ftrait  from  Heav'n, 

Whether  I  flood  a  chance  to  be  forgiv'n, 

If  on  a  Sunday,  from  all  fcruples  free, 

I  fcrap'd  the  old  Black  Joke,  and  Cbere  Amie. 

6  Ah  !  fool  !  (exclaim'd  my  confcience)  know, 

'  God  never,  againft  rniific  made  a  rule  : 
6  On  Sundays,  you  may  fafely  take  your  bow— 

'  And  play  as  well  the  fiddle,  as  the  fool.' 


[        soi        J 

A  late  Archbjmop,  *  too,  O  King,  ^ 
Who  knew  mod  fecrets  of  the  skies, 

Said,  Heav'n  on  Sundays  reliftYd  pipe  and  firing, 
Where  founds  on  founds,  unceafing  rife — 

And  ask'd,  as  Sunday  had  its  mufic  there, 

Why  Sunday  (hould  not  have  its  mafic  here. 

In  confequence  of  this  divine  opinion, 

That  Prince  of  Parfons  in  your  great  dominion. 

Inform' d  his  falhionable  wife, 
That  fhe  might  have  her  Sunday  routs  and  cardsr 
And  meet  at  lad  with  Heav'n's  rewards, 

When  death  ihould  take  her  precious  life* 

Thus  dropping  pious  qualms,  religious  doubts,- 
His  lady  did  enjoy  her  Sunday  routs  J 
Upon  Good-Friday,  too,  that  awful  day,    , 
Lo  !  like  Vauxhall,  was  Lambeth  all  fo  gay  ! 

Now  if  his  prefent  Grace,  with  fharpen'cl  eyes3 

Could  fquint  a  little  deeper  in  the  sides, 

He  might  be  able  to  inform  his  dame, 

Of  two  impoftors,  p'rhaps,  call'd  Sin  and  Shame,-. 

Who  many  a  pleafure  tvom  our  grafp  remove, 

Pretending  to  commiilions  from  above. 

Like  this,  a  fecret,  could  his  Grace  explore, 
What  a  proud  day  for  Us,  and  Miftrefs  Moore  I 
For  ho  !  two  greater  foes  we  cannot  name, 
To  this  world's  joys,  than  Meflieurs  Sin  and  Shame, 

Then  might  we  think  no  more  op'praife  and  pray'r,. 

But  leave,  at  wilt,  our  Maker  in  the  lurch  : 
Sleep,  racket,  lie  a  bed,  or  take  the  air, 

And  order  owls  and  hr.ts  to  go  to  church, 


*  Gornwallis, 


C  302  j 

Sunday,  like  other  days,  would  then  have  life  : 
Now  prim,  and  (larch,  and  (I lent,  as  a 'Quaker— 

And  gloomy  in  her  looks,  as  if  the  wife, 
Or  widow,  of  "an  Undertaker. 

Happy  fiiould  I  have  been,  my  Liege, 
So  great  a  Monarch  to  oblige  : 
And,  Sir— between  you,  and  the  poft, 
And  me — you  don't  know  what  you've  loft— 
The  lofs  of  me,  fo  great  a  Bard, 
Is  not,  O  King,  to  be  repair' d. 
My  verfe,  fuperior  to  the  hardeft  rock, 

Nor  earthquake  fears,  nor  lea,  nor  fire  ; 
Surpafling,  therefore,  Miftrefs  Darner's  block, 

That  boafts  fo  ftrong  a  likenefs  of  you,  Sire. 
That  block,  fo  ponderous,  mult  with  age  decay, 
And  all  the  lines  of  wifdom  wear  away  ! 
I  grant  the  Lady's  loyalty  and  love, 
Yet,  «  none  but  Phidias  fhould  attempt  a  Jove.* 

The  Macedonian  Hero  grac'd  the  ftone 
Of  fam'd  Praxiteles  alone  ; 
Forbidding  others  to  attempt  his  nob, 
It  was  fo  great  and  difficult  a  job. 

Auguftus  fwore  an  oath  fo  dread, 

He'd  cut  off*  any  poet's  head, 

But  Virgil's,  that  Ihould  dare  his  praife  rehearfe, 

Or  mention  ev'n  his  name  in  verfe. 

Then,  Sir,  if  I  may  be  a  little  free, 
My  art  would  fuit  your  merits,  to  a  T. 

Lord  !   in  my  adamantine  lays, 
Your  virtues  would,  like  bonfires,  blaze — 
So  firm  your  tuneful  jeweller,  would  fet  'era, 
They'd  break  the  teeth  of  time,  to  eat  'em. 


C      303      ] 

Wrapp'd  in  the  fplendor  of  my  golden  line. 
For  ever  would  your  Majefly  be  fine  ! 
Appear  a  gentleman  of  firft  repute, 
And  always  glitter  in  a  birth-day  fuit. 

Then  to  all  ftories  would  I  give  the  lie. 

That  dar'd  attack  you,  and  your  fame  devour  ; 

Making  a  King,  a  nine-pin  in  our  eye, 
Who  ought,  like  Egypt's  pyramids  to  tow'r — 

Such  as  the  foll'wing  fable,  for  example, 

Of  impudence,  unprecedented  fample  ! 


THE    ROYAL    SHEEP. 

SOME  time  ago,  a  dozen  Iambs, 
Two  rev'rend  patriarchal  rams, 
And  one  good  motherly  old  Ewe, 
Died  on  a  fudden  down  at  Kew  ; 

Where,  with  the  fweeteft  innocence,  alas ! 

Thofe  pretty,  inoffenfive  lambs, 

And  rev'rend,' horned,  patriarchal  rams, 
And  motherly  old  Ewe,  were  nibbling  grafs  ; 
All  the  fair  property  of  our  great  King — : 
Whofe  deaths  did  much  the  Royal  bofom  wring. 
'Twas  faid,  that  dogs  had  tickled  them  to  death  ; 
Play'd  with  their  gentle  throats,  and  flopp'd  their  breath* 

Like  HOMER'S  heroes,  on  th'  enfanguin'd  plain, 
Stalk'd  Mr.  Robinfon  §  around  the  (lain  j 


$  The  Hind. 


E        3o4        ] 

And  never  more  was  frighten'd  in  his  life. 
So  Ihock'd  was  Mr.  Robinfon's  whole  face., 
Not  flronger  horrors  could  have  taken  place, 

Had  Cerberus  devoured  his  wife  I 

With  wild,  defpairing  looks,  and  fighs, 

And  wet,  and  pity-asking  eyes, 

He,  trembling,  to  the  royal  prefence  ventured — 

Wliite  as  the  whfteft  napkin,  when  he  enter' d  ! 

White  as  the  man,  who  fought  King  PRIAM'S  bed5 

And  told  him,  that  his  warlike  fon  was  dead. 

6  Oh  !  pleafe  your  Majefty'--- -he,  blubb'ring,  cry'd— 

And  then  ftopp'd  fhort — 
c  What  ?   what  ?  what  ?  what  ?   (the  (taring  King  re- 

ply'd)— 

6  Speak,   Robinfon,   fpeak,    fpeak,    what,    what's    the 
c  hurt  f 

e  O  Sire,'  faid  Robinfon  again — 

•*  Speak— (faid  the  King)— put,  put  me  out  of  pain — 

4  Don't,  don't,  in  this  fufpenfe,  a  body  keep' — 

6  O  Sire  !'  cry'd  Robinfon,  *  the  iheep,  the  iheep  !' 

*  What  of  the  iheep,'  reply'd  the  King,  *  pray,  pray — 
L  Dead,  Robinfon  ?  dead  ?  dead  ?  or  run  away  ? 

4  Dead,  anfwer'd  Robinfon  ;  dead,  dead,  dead,  dead,' 
Then,  like  a  drooping  lily,  hung  his  head. 

c  How  ?  how  ?'  the  Monarch  ask'd,  with  vifage  fad, 

*  By  dogs,'  faid  Robinfon,  6  and,  likely,  mad.' 

c  No,  no,  they  can't  be  mad— they  can't  be  mad — 

*  No,  no,  things  ar'n't  fo  bad— things  ar'n't  fo  bad.* 

6  Rejoin'd  the  King— 
c  Off  with  them  quick  to  market— quick.,  depart ; 

*  In  with  them,  in,  in  with  them  in  a  cart — 

6  Sell,  fell  them,  for  as  much  as  they  will  bring.' 


I      305      3 

Now  to  Fleet-Market,  driving  like  the  wind, 
A\nidft  bis  murderM  mutton,  rode  the  Hind, 

All  in  the  royal  cart  fo  great, 

To  try  to  fell  the  royal  meat. 

"Hie- news  of  this  rare  batch  of  lambs. 

And.  Ewe  and  Rams, 
Defign'd  for  masy  a  London  dinner, 
lleach'd  the  fair  ears  of  Matter  Sheriff  Skirmet, 
Who  with  a  hammer,  and  a  conference  clear, 
Gets  glory,  and  ten  thoufand  pounds  a  year  : 
And  who,  if  things  go  -tolerably  tair, 
Will  be , one  day  proud  London's  proud  Lord  1 

The  Alderman  was  in  his  pulpit  finning, 

'Midft  Gentlemen,  with  night-caps,  hair  and  wigs  ; 
In  language  molt  rhetorical,  defining 

The  -Herling  merit  of  a  lot  of  pigs  i 

When  fuddenly  the  news  was  "brought, 

That,  in  Fleet-Market,  were  umvholefoine  (Keep ,; 

Which  made  the.  preacher  from  his  pulpit  leap/ 
As  nimble  as  a  taylor,  or  as  thought. 

For  juftice  panting,  and  unnwM  by.  fears, 
This  King,  this  Emperor  of  Auctioneers, 
Sat  off— -a  furious  face  indeed  he  put  on— 

Like  lightning,  did  he  gallop  up  Cheapfide  ! 

Like  thunder,  down  through  Ludgate  did  he  ride,- 
To  catch  the  man,-  who  fold -this  dreadful  mutton, 

Now  to  Fleet-Market,  full  of  wrath,  he  came  ; 

And  with  the  fpirit  of  an  ancient  Roman, 

Exceeded,  I  believe,  by  no  man, 
The  Alderman,  fo  virtuous,  cry'd  out,  '  Shame  f 

c  Damme  !  (to  Robinfon,  (aid  Matter  Skinner* 
6  Who,  on  fuch  mutton,  Sir,  can  make  a  dinner  f 
Bb 


.    L        3'o6        j 

'  Toif,  if  you  pleafe,' 
Cry'd  Mr.  Robmfon,  with  perfect  eafe. 
4  Sir  f  quoih  the  red-hot  Alderman  again  ; 

*  Ton?  quoth  the  Hind,  in  juft  the  fame  cool  ftrairu 

6  Off!  off.!  (cry'd  Skinner)  with  your  carrion  heap;; 
6  Quick,  d-mme,  take  away  ypur  nafty  flieep  ! 
6  Whilft  1  command,  not  e'Vn  the  King 

*  Shall  fuch  vile  (tuff  to  market  bring, 

'  And  London  flails  fuch  garbage  put  on  ; 
6  So  take, away  your  flinking  mutton.' 

'  To -u  (reply' d  Robinfon)  you  cry  out  '  Shame  !' 

*  Tou  .biafl  the-flieep,  good  Mailer  Skinner,  pray,! 
'  Tou  give  the  barmlefs  mutton  a  bad  name  ! 

*  Ten  impudently  order  it  away  ! 

(  Sweet  Matter  Alderman,  don't  make  this  rout : 
6  Clap  on  your  fpedacles  upon  your  ihout, 
6  And  then  your  keen  fun/eying  eyes  regale, 

6  With  tliofe  fame  fine  large  letters  on  the  cart, 
6  Which  brought  this 'blafted  mutton  here  for  Tale;.* 

Poor  -Skimier  read,  and  read  it  with  a  Mart  ! 

Like  Hamlet,  frighten'd  at  his  father's  Glioft, 
The  Alderman  flood  daring,  like  a  pod  ; 
He  law  G.  R.  infcrib'd  in  handfomc  letters, 
\Vhieh  prov'd  the  fneep  belong' d  unto  his  betters* 

The  Alderman  now  turn'd  to  deep  reflexion  ; 
And  being  blefs'd  with  proper  recollection, 
Exclaim' d — '  I've  made  a  great  midake — Oh,  fad  ; . 

*  The  Iheep  are  really  not  fo  bad. 

Dear  Mr.  Robinfon,  I  beg  your  pardon  ;  , 
Your  Job-like  patience  I've  borne  hard  on  ; 
Whoever  fays,  the  mutton  is  not  good. 
Knows  nothing,  Mr.  Robinfon,  of  food. 
]  verily  believe,  I  could  turn  glutton, 

neat,  wholfome,  pretty-looking  mutton  ; 


[        307        ] 

*  Pray,  Mr.  Robinfon,  the  mutton  fell  ; 
v  I  hope.  Sir,  that  his  Majefty  is  well.' 

So  faying,  Mr.  Robinfon  he  quitted. 
With  cherubimic  fmiles,  and  placid  brows, 

For  fuch  embarrafRng  occafions,  fitted  ; 
Adding  juft  five  and  twenty  humble  bows, 

To  work  went  Robinfon,  to  fell  the  fheep, 
But  people  would  not  buy,  except  Dog-cheap  ; 
At  length  the  iheep  were  fold— without  the  fleece, 
And  brought  King  Geofge  juft  half-a-crown,  a  piece 

Now  for  the  other  i%ucy,  lying  ftory, 

Made,  one  would  think,  to  tarniih  Kingly  glory* 


THE  K***  AND  PARSON  YOUXG, 

THE  K***  (God  blefs  him  !)  met  old  Parian  Young, 
Walking  on  Windfor  Terrace,  one  fair  morning  ; 

DeJightfiil  was  the  day—  the  fcent  was  ftron^  ; 
A  heay'nly  day,  for  howling  and  fof  horning  ! 

For  tearing  farmers'  hedges  down—  hallooings  { 

Shouts,  curfes,  oaths,  and  fuch  like  pious  doings. 

6  Youug,  (cry'd  the  K***)  d'ye  hunt,  d>e  hunt,  te 

6  day  '? 
*  Yes  !  yes  !  —  what,  what?  yes  !  yes  !  fine  dnv  i  fv 


Low,  with  a  rev'rem  bow,  the  Prtef; 
*  Great  King  !  I  really  have  no  horfe  ; 
fi  Nothing,  O  Monarch,  but  my  fouii;. 
6  AndjL?,  my  Liege,  as  blind  as  Dae  c 


C        S°8       1' 

*  No  horfe  !  (rejoined  the  K~g)  no  horfe  I  no  horfe  f  - 

*  Indeed  (the  Parfon  added)  I  have  none  : 

4  Nothing,  but  poor  old  Dobbin  ;  who,  of  courfe, 

*  Is  dang'rous--bdng  blinder  than  a  done.' 

*  Blind  ?  blind.  Young  f—  never  mind  —  you  mud,   mu& 

4  go! 

4  Miid  hunt  !  mud  hunt,  Young  !—  day  behind  '?-.ir«  t 
6  no  !r 

What  pity,,  that  the  King,  in  his  difcourfe 
Forgot  to  fay,  *  Til  lend  you,  Young,  a  horfe  P 

The  K--g,  to  -Young,  behaving  thus  fo  kind  ; 
Whatever  the  danger,  and  howe'er  inclm?d, 

At  home,  with  polite  jjc^  -Young  could  not  flay  ; 
So  up  his  Rev'rence  got  upon  the  mare, 
Refolv'd1,  the  Chace  witli  Majedy  to  ihare, 

Whatever  the  dangers  of  the  day, 

Rons'  d  was  the  deer  !  —  the  King,  and  Parfon  Young  5-. 

(Cador  and  Pollux  like)  rode,  fide  by  fide  ; 
Wiicn,  lo  !  a  ditch  was  to  b£  fprung  ! 

Over  leaped  G—  ge  the  Third,  with  kingly  pride, 


Over  nimp'd  Tinker^  Ton'zer,  Riockwtod^  Towler, 
uver  jiimp'd  Mendail,  Bruflwood,  'Jubal,  Jowler^ 
Trimbiijb  and  Ligblnlng,  Mufic,  Ranter,  IFonder 
And  fifty  others,  with  their  mouths  of  thunder  , 
Great  names  !  v/hofe  pedigrees  fo  fair, 
With  thofe  cf  j^lomer's  heroes  might  compare, 

Thus,  glorioufly  attended,  leap'd  the  king, 
Ey  all  thofe  hounds,  attended  with  a  fpring  ! 
Not  Csefar's  felf,  a  fiercer  rook  put  on, 
When,  with  the  hod,  he  pafs'd  the  Rubicon! 

But  wayward  fate  the  parfon's  palfrey  humbled? 

And  gave  the  mare  a  fudden  check  ; 
Unfortunately  poor  blind  Dobbin  tumbled, 

And  broke  bis  Reverence's  neck. 


E      309      ] 

The  Monarch  gaping,  with  amaze,  loofd  roun 
Upon  his  dead  companion  on  the  ground  ; 
.4  What,  what  ?  (he  cry' if).  Young  dead  !  Your 

'  Young  dead  ! 
*  Humph,    take  him  up,  and  put  him  home  to 

Thus  having  finifti'd— with  a  cheerful  face, 
Wimrod  the  fecond  join'd  the  jovial  chace. 


A   MORAL  REFLECTION, 

/' 

FOOLS  would  have  flopped,  when  Parfon  Young' 
kill'd, 

And  giv'n  up  ev'ry  thought  of  hound  and  deer  ; 
And  with  a  weaknefs,  caH'cf  Compaifion,  fillM, 

Had  turn'd  Samaritans^  and  dropM  a  tear. 

But  better  far  the  royal  Sportfman  knew  ; 

He  guefs'd  the  ccnfequence,  beyond  a  doubt  ; 
Full  well  he  g;uefs'd,  he  ihould  not  have  a  view  ; 

Aud  that  he  ihould  be  ihamefully  thrown  out. 

P'rhaps,  from  the  royal  eye,  a  tear  might  hop  ; 
Yet  Pages  Avear,  they  never  faw  it  drop. 

But  Majefly  may  fay— 'what,  what,  what's  death  ? 
*  Nought,  nought,  nought,  but  a  little  lofs  of  bread'- 

To  Parfon  Young,  'twas  more,  I'm  very  ,clear  j 
He  loft,  by  death,  fome  hundred  pounds  a  year, 
A  great  deal,  rny  dear  Liege,  depends 
On  having  clever  bards  for  friends  : 
What  had  Achilles  been,  without  his  MO:P  • 
A  tailor,  woollen- draper,  or  a  comber ! 


C        S'o        ] 

,  that  have  been  dead  a  hundred  year, 
None.,  but,  the  Lord,  knows  how  or  where. 

In  Poetry's  rich  grafs,  how  virtues  thrive  ! 
Some,  when  put  in,  fo  lean,  fcarce  feem  alive  ; 
And  yer,  fo  fpeedily  a  bulk  obtain, 
Thfit  ev'n  their  owners  know  them  not  again. 

Could  you,  indeed,  have  gain'd  my  mufe  of  fire,   * 
Great  would  your  luck  have  been,  indeed,  great  Sire  ! 

Then  had  I  prais'd  your  noblenefs  of  fpirit  ! 
Then  had  I  beaded,  that  myfelf, 
I-light  Peter,  was  the  fird  bled,  tuneful  elf, 

You*  ever  gave  a  farthing  to,  for  merit. 

Though  money  be  3  pretty  handy  tool  ; 

Of  jVIarnrncn,  lo  !  I  fcorn  to  be  the  fool  ! 

II   Fortune  calls,  f-ie's  welcome  to  my  cot, 

Whether  (he  leaves  a  guinea  or  a  groat  ; 

Wit  the:  Ihe  brings  me,  from  the  butcher's  fliop,' 

The  whole  iheep,  or  a  funple  chop. 

For  lo  !  like  Andrew  Marvel,  I  can  dine, 
And  deem  a  mutton -bone  extremely  fine  ; 
Tbe-j,  Sir,  how  dim  cult  the  task,  you  fee, 
To  bribe  a  moderate  gentleman,  like  Me. 

I  will  not  Avcnr.,  point  btevk,  I  lhall  not  alter"; 
A  Saint—my  name-fake,  e'en  was  known  to  faulter, 
N^y  more—  feme  clever  men  in  Oppofltion, 
Whofe  ibuls  did  really  ieem  in  good  condition  \ 

ittj  fuch  horrible  complaint, 
And  'damivd  him  tor  the  word  of  knaves  ; 
Alrer'd  their  minds  ;  became  Pitt's  abject  Haves, 
Arid  publiuYd  their  new  Patron,  for  a  Suint. 

',vho  is  there,  that  may  not  change  his  mind  ? 
';s  of  that  delcr'pdon  find, 
caih, 


C 


en  grave  Divines  fubmit  to  glitt'ring  gold  ! 
The  bcil  of  confciences  are  bought  and  Ibid  : 
As  in  a  taie  I'll  ihow,  moft  edifying, 
And  prove  to  all  the  world,  that  I'm  not  lying* 


THE    P  A  R  SO  N,    THR    SQUIRE,  AND 
SPANIEL. 

A     T    A    L    E. 

A  GENTLEMAN  pofTefs'd  a  fav'rite  fpaniel, 
That  neither  treated  maid  nor  man  ill  : 
Thi-s  dog,  of  whom  we  cannot  too  much  fay^- 
Got,  from  his  godfather,  the  name  of  Tray/ 

After  ten  years  of  ferviee  juft, 

Tray,  like  the  race  of  mortals,  fought  the  dull  ^ 

That  is  to  fay,  the  fpaniel  dy'd: 

A  coffin  there  was  ordered  to  be  made, 
The  dog  was  in  the  church-yard  laid  ; 

•And  o'er  his  pale  remains,  the  Mailer  cry'd. 

Lamenting  much  his  trufty,  fur-clad  friend, 
And  willing1  to  commemorate  his  end, 
ITb  rais'd  a  fmall  blue  itone,  jull  after  burial, 
And  weeping,  wrote  on  k  this  iweet  memorial : 


TRAY's    EPITAPH, 

HERE  reft  the  relics  of  a  friend  below, 

Blcrt  with  more  fenfe,  than  half  the  folks  I  know  \ 

Fond  of  his  eafe,  and  to  no  parties  prone, 

He  damned  no  left  ;  but  calmly  gnaw'd  his  bone  : 

Pcrform'd  his  fun&ions  well,  in  ev'ry  way  ; 

Bluih,  -Chriftians,  if  you  can,  at*i  copy  Tray ! 


312 


THE  Curate  of  the  HuntingtorJan  Band  ; 

Rare  breed  of  goipel-hawks,  thai  icour  the  land, 

And  fierce  on  (ins,  their  quarry,  fall  ; 

Thofe  Locufts,  that  would  eat  us  all  : 

Men,  who,  with  new-invented  patent  eyes, 

See  Heav'n,  and  all  the  angels  in  t-lie  skies  ; 

As  plain,  as  in  the  box  of  Showman  Swiis, 

For  little  Matter  made,  and  curious  Mifs, 

We  fee,  with  huge  delight,  the  King  of  France, 

With  all  his  Lords  and  Ladies,  dance. 

This  Curate  heard  th'  affair,  with  deep  emotion  $ 
And  thus  exclaim' cl,  with  infinite  devotion  ! 

*  O  Lord  !  O  Lord  !  0  Lord  !  O  Lord  ! 

*  Fine  doings  thefe,  upon  my  wbrd  ! 

*  This,  truly,  is  a  pretty  tfcing. 

*  What  will  become  of  this  mo  ft  mocking  world  f 

*  How  richly  (uch  a.  rogue  deferves  to  fwing, 

4  And  then  to  Satan's  hotted  flames  be  hurl'd. 

*  Oh,    by  this  dnmned  deed,  how  I  am  hurry' d  ; 

*  A  dog,  in  Cbrinian  ground,  be  bury'd, 

fc  And  have  an  Epitaph,  forfooth,  fo  civil  ! 

*  Egad,    Old  Maids  will  prefentiy  be  found, 

*  Clapping  their  fa&&i~am-cats  in  holy  ground, 

6  And  writing  verfes  on  each  moafing  devil.' 

Againil  fuch  future  cafiirJty,  providing, 

The  Prieft  fnt  off;  like  Homers  Neptune,  ftriding. 

Vowing  to  put  the  culprit  in  the  Court. 
He  found  him,  at  the  fpanieFs  humble  grave  ; 
Not  praying,  neither  finging  of  a  fuive  ; 

And  thus  began  ^'  abuje  him — not  exhort-" 

*  Son  of  the  Dev'l,  what  haft  thou  done  ? 

*  Nought,  for  the  action,  can  atone  $ 


[        313        T 

*  I  {houkl  not  wonder,  if  the  great  All-wife 
•*  Quick  darted  dov/n  his  lightning  all  fo  red, 

*  And  dafn'd  to  earth  .that  wrenched  head* 

6  Which  dar'd  To  foul,  fo  bale  an  aft  deviie  1 

*  Bury  a  dog,  like  chrifHan  folk  ! 

*  None,  but  the  devil,  could  provoke 

4  A  man,  to  perpetrate  a  deed  fo  odd  I 

*  Our  inquMition  foon  the  tale  ihall  hear  ; 

*  And  quickly,  your  fine  fleece  iliall  iliear  : 

4  Why,  fach  a  villain  can't  believe  in  God  1 

*  Softly  !  my  reverend  Sir,'  the  fquire  reply'd  3  , 
6  Tray  was  as  good  a  dog,  as  ever  dy'd  } 

*  No  education  could  his  morals  mend  ; 

*  And,  what,  perhaps,  Sir,  you  may  doubt;  , 
6  Before  his  lamp  of  life  went  out, 

*  lie  order'd  you  a  legacy,  ray  friend.'. 

'  Did  he  ?—  poor  dog  !'  the  foften'd  pried  rejoin'd, 

In  accents  pity  fill  and  kind  ; 
4  What  !  was  it  Tf&f  ?  I'm  forry  for  poor  Tray  ? 

*  Why  truly,  dogs  of  fuch  rare. merit, 

*  Such  real  noblenefs  of  fpirit, 

*  Should  not,  like  common  dogs,  be  put  away, 

*  Well  !  pray  what  was  it,  that  he  gave, 

*  Poor  fellow  !  ere  he  fought  the  grave  ? 

*  I  guefs,  I  may  put  confidence,  Sir,  in  ye.9 
4  A  piece  of  gold,'  the  gentleman  reply'd  ; 

fc  I'm  much  oblig'd  to  Tray?  the  Parfon  cry'd  ; 
So  left  God's  caufe9  and  pocketed  the  guinea 


Yet,  mould'!  imitate  the  fickle  wind. 

Or  Mr.  Patriot  Eden — change  my  mind  ; 

And  for  the  Bard,  your  JVInjefty  mould  fend, 

And  fay,  c  well,  well,  well,  well,  niy  tuneful  friend, 

*- 1  long,  I  long,  to  give  you  fomething,,  Peter  *,     , 

*  You  make  fine  verfcs— nothing  can  be  fweecer  \ 


r     314    3 

f  What  will  yon  have  ?  what,  what  ?  fpeak  out— fpeafe 
*  out  ; 

*  Yes,  yes,  you  fomething  want—no  doubt,  no  doubt**' 

Or  fhould  you,  like  fbme  metr,  who  gravely  preach, 
Forfake  your  ufual  fhort-hand  mode  of  fpeech, 
And  thus  begin7~in  bible-phrafe  fublime  ; 

*  What  (hall  be  done,  .for  our  rare  Son  of  Rhyme  I 

*  The  Bard,  who  full  of  wifdom  \vriteth  ? 

*  The  Bard,  in  whom  the  King  delighteth  ? 

Then  would  the  Poet  thankfully  reply. 

With  falt'ring  voice,  low  bow,  and  marv'ling  eye^ 

All  meeknefs  ?  fuch  a  fimpie,  dove-like  thing  i 
14  Blelt  be  the  Bard,  who  verfes  can  indite, 
4  To  yield  a  fecond  Solomon  delight  ? 

*  Thrice  b!  jfT-,  who  lindcth  favor  with  the  Kim  J 


J&  *a:y  lto§ 


•     -^ 


k/l 


